inexorable, made a raid on all the gambling dens, broke the tables and
apparatus, and conducted the men to a distance from the town, where they
left them with an emphatic and concise warning as to the consequences
of any attempt to return. An exception was made in Jeff Johnson's
case--but only for the sake of his daughter--for it was found that many
a "little game" had been carried on in his house.

Erelong he found it convenient to sell his business and retire to a town
some miles to the eastward, where the railroad influence was not as
strong as at Barker's. At about this time, Sinclair made his
arrangements to go to New York, with the pleasant prospect of marrying
the young lady in Fifth Avenue. In due time he arrived at Barker's with
his young and charming wife and remained for some days. The changes were
astounding. Common-place respectability had replaced abnormal
lawlessness. A neat station stood where had been the rough contractor's
buildings. At a new "Windsor" (or was it "Brunswick"?) the performance
of the kitchen contrasted sadly (alas! how common is such contrast in
these regions) with the promise of the _menu_. There was a tawdry
theatre yclept "Academy of Music," and there was not much to choose in
the way of ugliness between two "meeting-houses."

"Upon my word, my dear," said Sinclair to his wife, "I ought to be
ashamed to say it, but I prefer Barker's _au naturel_."

One evening, just before the young people left the town, and as Mrs.
Sinclair sat alone in her room, the frowsy waitress announced "a lady,"
and was requested to bid her enter. A woman came with timid mien into
the room, sat down, as invited, and removed her veil. Of course the
young bride had never known Sally Johnson, the whilom belle of Barker's,
but her husband would have noticed at a glance how greatly she was