CHAPTER XXXI
FOILED YET AGAIN
Mallory had fled from the scene at the first hum of the minister'swords. His fate was like alkali on his palate. For twelve hundredmiles he had ransacked the world for a minister. When one dropped onthe train like manna through the roof, even this miracle had to becheckmated by a perverse miracle that sent to the train an earlyinfatuation, a silly affair that he himself called puppy-love. And nowMarjorie would never marry him. He did not blame her. He blamed fate.
He was in solitude in the smoking room. The place reeked with driftingtobacco smoke and the malodor of cigar stubs and cigarette ends. Hisplans were as useless and odious as cigarette ends. He dropped into achair his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands--Napoleon onSt. Helena.
And then, suddenly he heard Marjorie's voice. He turned and saw herhesitating in the doorway. He rose to welcome her, but the smile diedon his lips at her chilly speech:
"May I have a word with you, sir?"
"Of course. The air's rather thick in here," he apologized.
"Just wait!" she said, ominously, and stalked in like a young Zenobia.He put out an appealing hand: "Now, Marjorie, listen to reason. Ofcourse I know you won't marry me now."
"Oh, you know that, do you?" she said, with a squared jaw.
"But, really, you ought to marry me--not merely because I loveyou--and you're the only girl I ever----" He stopped short and shealmost smiled as she taunted him: "Go on--I dare you to say it."
He swallowed hard and waived the point: "Well, anyway, you ought tomarry me--for your own sake."
Then she took his breath away by answering: "Oh, I'm going to marryyou, never fear."
"You are," he cried, with a rush of returning hope. "Oh, I knew youloved me."
She pushed his encircling arms aside: "I don't love you, and that'swhy I'm going to marry you."
"But I don't understand."
"Of course not," she sneered, as if she were a thousand years old,"you're only a man--and a very young man."
"You've ceased to love me," he protested, "just because of a littleaffair I had before I met you?"
Marjorie answered with world-old wisdom: "A woman can forgive a mananything except what he did before he met her."
He stared at her with masculine dismay at feminine logic: "If youcan't forgive me, then why do you marry me?"
"For revenge!" she cried. "You brought me on this train all thisdistance to introduce me to a girl you used to spoon with. And I don'tlike her. She's awful!"
"Yes, she is awful," Mallory assented. "I don't know how I ever----"
"Oh, you admit it!"
"No."
"Well, I'm going to marry you--now--this minute--with that preacher,then I'm going to get off at Reno and divorce you."
"Divorce me! Good Lord! On what grounds?"
"On the grounds of Miss Kitty--Katty--Llewellington--or whatever hername is."
Mallory was groggy with punishment, and the vain effort to foresee hernext blow. "But you can't name a woman that way," he pleaded, "forjust being nice to me before I ever met you."
"That's the worst kind of unfaithfulness," she reiterated. "You shouldhave known that some day you would meet me. You should have saved yourfirst love for me."
"But last love is best," Mallory interposed, weakly.
"Oh, no, it isn't, and if it is, how do I know I'm to be your lastlove? No, sir, when I've divorced you, you can go back to your firstlove and go round the world with her till you get dizzy."
"But I don't want her for a wife," Mallory urged, "I want you."
"You'll get me--but not for long. And one other thing, I want you toget that bracelet away from that creature. Do you promise?"
"How can I get it away?"
"Take it away! Do you promise?"
Mallory surrendered completely. Anything to get Marjorie safely intohis arms: "I promise anything, if you'll really marry me."
"Oh, I'll marry you, sir, but not really."
And while he stared in helpless awe at the cynic and termagant thatjealousy had metamorphosed this timid, clinging creature into, theyheard the conductor's voice at the rear door of the car: "Hurryup--we've got to start."
They heard Lathrop's protest: "Hold on there, conductor," and Selby'splea: "Oh, I say, my good man, wait a moment, can't you?"
The conductor answered with the gruffness of a despot: "Not a minute.I've my orders to make up lost time. All aboard!"
While the minister was tying the last loose ends of the matrimonialknot, Mallory and Marjorie were struggling through the crowd to get athim. Just as they were near, they were swept aside by the rush of thebride and groom, for the parson's "I pronounce you man and wife,"pronounced as he backed toward the door, was the signal for anotherwedding riot.
Once more Ira and Anne were showered with rice. This time it was theirown. Ira darted out into the corridor, haling his brand-new wife bythe wrist, and the wedding guests pursued them across the vestibule,through the next car, and on, and on.
Nobody remained to notice what happened to the parson. Havingperformed his function, he was without further interest or use. But toMallory and Marjorie he was vitally necessary.
Mallory caught his hand as it turned the knob of the door and drew himback. Marjorie, equally determined, caught his other elbow:
"Please don't go," Mallory urged, "until you've married us."
The Reverend Charles stared at his captors in amazement:
"But my dear man, the train's moving."
Marjorie clung all the tighter and invited him to "Come on to the nextstop."
"But my dear lady," Selby gasped, "it's impossible."
"You've just got to," Mallory insisted.
"Release me, please."
"Never!"
"How dare you!" the parson shrieked, and with a sudden wriggle writhedout of his coat, leaving it in Marjorie's hands. He darted to the doorand flung it open, with Mallory hot after him.
The train was kicking up a cloud of dust and getting its stride. Thekidnapped clergyman paused a moment, aghast at the speed with whichthe ground was being paid out. Then he climbed the brass rail and,with a hasty prayer, dropped overboard.
Mallory lunged at him, and seized him by his reversed collar. But thecollar alone remained in his clutch. The parson was almost lost in thedust he created as he struck, bounded and rolled till he came to astop, with his stars and his prayers to thank for injuries to nothingworse than his dignity and other small clothes.
Mallory returned to the observation room and flung the collar and bibto the floor in a fury of despair, howling:
"He got away! He got away!"
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