In half an hour the electric stoves of the restaurant were going at
their full capacity. Men, cheerfully excited men now, were bringing
in pigeons by armfuls, and other men were skinning them. There was
no time to pluck them, though a great many of the women were busily
engaged in that occupation.

As fast as the birds could be cooked they were served out to the
impatient but much cheered castaways, and in a little while nearly
every person in the place was walking casually about the halls
with a roasted, broiled, or fried pigeon in his hands. The ovens
were roasting pigeons, the frying-pans were frying them, and the
broilers were loaded down with the small but tender birds.

The unexpected solution of the most pressing question cheered
every one amazingly. Many people were still frightened, but less
frightened than before. Worry for their families still oppressed
a great many, but the removal of the fear of immediate hunger led
them to believe that the other problems before them would be solved,
too, and in as satisfactory a manner.

Arthur had returned to his office with four broiled pigeons in
a sheet of wrapping-paper. As he somehow expected, Estelle was
waiting there.

"Thought I'd bring lunch up," he announced. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving!" Estelle replied, and laughed.

The whole catastrophe began to become an adventure. She bit eagerly