The big drum boomed outside, and the publicity man began shouting to
newly arrived boatloads. Miss Welch took a last pull at her cigarette.
"Now you'll have to get out, Don. I change for the next act. This time I
go up in a black evening dress, and lose the skirt in the basket before I
start down."

"Yes, go along," said Eden. "Wait for me outside the door. I'll stay and
help her dress."

Hedger waited and waited, while women of every build bumped into him and
begged his pardon, and the red pages ran about holding out their caps for
coins, and the people ate and perspired and shifted parasols against the
sun. When the band began to play a two-step, all the bathers ran up out
of the surf to watch the ascent. The second balloon bumped and rose, and
the crowd began shouting to the girl in a black evening dress who stood
leaning against the ropes and smiling. "It's a new girl," they called.
"It ain't the Countess this time. You're a peach, girlie!"

The balloonist acknowledged these compliments, bowing and looking down
over the sea of upturned faces,--but Hedger was determined she should not
see him, and he darted behind the tent-fly. He was suddenly dripping with
cold sweat, his mouth was full of the bitter taste of anger and his
tongue felt stiff behind his teeth. Molly Welch, in a shirt-waist and a
white tam-o'-shanter cap, slipped out from the tent under his arm and
laughed up in his face. "She's a crazy one you brought along. She'll get
what she wants!"

"Oh, I'll settle with you, all right!" Hedger brought out with
difficulty.