ninety-five degrees is a somewhat hazardous proceeding, he remarked.
How glad we all were then that we had taken the steak, even if it was
tough! The doctor gave Margery some medicine and said we needn't worry
because she wouldn't get any worse, and left us with a few more remarks
about eating fish in a restaurant in hot weather.

Margery was more distressed about having delayed our start than she was
over her own discomfort, so we had to make light of it, even though we
were dismayed ourselves. Now the Glow-worm was ready and we were not! I
couldn't help feeling that it had been no ordinary fish from the near-
by lake that Margery had eaten, but one of the fateful fishes of the
zodiac itself, especially prepared for the occasion. For it soon became
evident that we could not leave town that night. Margery was feeling
better, but was still too weak for automobile traveling.

Nyoda knit her brows for some time. "I'll have to wire Chicago," she
said, thoughtfully. Gladys and the others must be there by this time.

I walked over to the telegraph office with her and stood beside her
while she wrote the message: "Held in Rochester to-night on account
sickness. Address Forty-three Main Street." She directed it to Gladys
at the Carrie Wentworth Inn, the new Women's Hotel where we were to
stay in Chicago. She read it out loud to me, counting over the words.
As we turned away from the window-desk someone turned and went out just
ahead of us. It was the motorcyclist.

Margery was sleeping when we returned, and we sat down beside the bed
and read the paper we had bought at the corner stand. Nyoda gave a
smothered exclamation as she read and pointed to an article which said
that both Margery Anderson's father and uncle were scouring the country