Van, she might almost have boxed her own tingling ears in sheer
vexation.

She entered the house, summoned Elsa from her room, and had the luggage
carried to their quarters. Then she opened her case, removed some
dainty finery, and vaguely wondered if the horseman would like her in
old lavender.

Van, in the meantime, had been busy at the hay-yard known as Charlie's.
Not only had Algy's arm been broken, by the bully in the fight, but he
had likewise been seriously mauled and beaten. His head had been cut,
he was hurt internally. A doctor, immediately summoned by the
horseman, had set the fractured member. Algy had then been put to bed
in a tent that was pitched in the yard where the horses, mules, cows,
pyramids of merchandise, and teamsters were thicker than flies on
molasses.

Gettysburg and Napoleon, quietly informed by Van of the latest turn of
their fortune, were wholly unexcited by the news. The attack on Algy,
however, had acted potently upon them. They started to get drunk and
achieved half a load before Van could herd them back to camp.

Napoleon was not only partially submerged when Van effected his
capture; he was also shaved. Van looked him over critically.

"Nap," he said, "what does this mean?--you wasting money on your face?"

Napoleon drunk became a stutterer, who whistled between his discharges
of seltzer.