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“Oh, ain’t he just grand? Did you hear the way he spoke to me, Emma Ducker? Goodness, what would I give if I had a man that could talk to me like–“

“You ought to heard what he said to me when I asked him to come over to our house and–” began Mrs. Ducker somewhat acrimoniously.

“Oh, cut it out–cut it out!” rasped Lucius. “Beat it! Go home, all of you! Gosh a’mighty, can’t a feller lick his own wife without–Here! Leggo my arm! What in thunder are you tryin’ to do, Lou Banks?”

“I’m going to take you over to my house and put your feet in a hot mustard bath, and–“

“No, you ain’t! Leggo, I say! Fer the Lord’s sake, Officer, chase ’em away!”

“Move on, now–move on, all of you,” commanded the Marshal, waving the revolver in lieu of his well-known night-stick. “What you got to say to me, Lucius?” he asked as the women fell back.

“Do you think they c’n hear?”

“Not unless you whisper loudern’ that.”

“Well, say, I want you to do me a favour. I want you to take me up to the jail an’ lock me in.”

“You–you want to be locked in?”

“I don’t care whether you put it that way er to lock all these fool women out. It’s all the same to me. I ain’t had a minute’s peace for nearly two months. I–“

“Why don’t you go in your own house an’ stay there?” demanded Anderson.

“That don’t seem to help any. They come to call on me so often you’d think I was a preacher or a doctor. An’ what’s more, my wife’s beginnin’ to get her dander up. I c’n see what’s comin’. If she ever–gee, it will be awful!”

“Then you hain’t murdered her yet? I understood you had.”

* * * * *

Vicious Lucius looked over his shoulder and drew closer to the Marshal.

“This here strain is gittin’ to be too much fer me, Mr. Crow. I can’t keep it up much longer. I’m breakin’ down. I been thinkin’ it over, an’ I can’t see any way out of it except to go to jail fer a month er two.”

“What’s the charge?” inquired Marshal Crow.

“There won’t be any. I’ll do it fer nothing. It won’t cost you a cent to arrest me.”

“That ain’t what I mean. What I mean is what offence have you committed? What law have you broke?”

“Well, it’s purty hard to say.”

“What charge will your wife make ag’inst you? Somebody has to make one, you know.”

“That’s just it. She won’t make any charge against me–positively not. So I’ve got to do it myself. You’ve had a lot of experience. What fer sort of a charge would you say I ought to bring?”

“Against yourself? It ain’t regular, Lucius.”

“How about insanity? Wouldn’t that be a safe sort of complaint? I been actin’ mighty queer lately.”

“I should say you had. Ain’t you goin’ to resist arrest?”

“No, I’m askin’ fer it. If you don’t want to be seen walkin’ through the streets with me, I’ll go on ahead an’ wait fer you at the jail.”

“Well, this certainly beats all! I thought sure you’d put up an awful fight, Lucius.”

“I want to be locked up so’s I won’t commit murder,” Lucius explained eagerly.

“Good gracious! You come along with me, Lucius Fry. You got to be put under lock an’ key ‘fore this night is over. I can’t take no chances on your murderin’ that pore defenceless wife of your’n. You come–“

“I ain’t thinkin’ of murderin’ my wife,” protested Lucius, holding back. “What I’m scared of is I’ll murder one or two of these pesky women–that Banks woman, fer instance. It’s gittin’ so I can’t stick my nose outside the door ‘thout her droppin’ everything an’ runnin’ out to gab with me. I don’t get a minute’s privacy. If it ain’t one, it’s another. You’d think I was Napoleon Boneparte, the way them women act. I don’t know what’s come over ’em.”