"What do I do?" countered Helena non-committingly.

"Do?" echoed Doc Madison. "Why, you go down there like a whole parade
and a gorgeous pageant rolled into one, in feathers and paint and
diamond boulders in your ears--and you come out of it in a gingham apron
and coy sunbonnet as sweet sixteen."

"Oh!" said Helena--and her eyes were on the curl of smoke from her
cigarette again.

"Say," said Pale Face Harry suddenly, evidently still worried about his
cough, "we ain't going to have no easy cinch of this."

"No," said Doc Madison, with a grim smile; "you're not! It's going to be
the hardest work any of you have ever done--you've got to lead decent
lives for awhile."

"Sure--dat's right," said the loyal Flopper; "but we stands fer anyt'ing
dat de Doc says--an' dat goes!"

"It'll come hard on some of us," remarked Pale Face Harry, with a sly
glance at Helena, which met with contemptuous silence.

Doc Madison leaned back, felt carefully at his carefully adjusted
tie--and smiled engagingly.

"Well?" he asked. "Can you see them coming?"

Pale Face Harry stared at him with a far-away expression in his eyes.