a gold bar."

"Stuff," answered Sedgwick. "In Texas we always noticed that if we ever
turned out a blood mare she was sure to pick up the sorriest old mustang
on the range for a running mate. Your Rose would be more apt to pick up a
husband here than in London for the first two or three years she might be
there."

Said Browning: "I say, Jim, did you mean that mustang story to go for an
excuse for Miss Rose calling me 'Jack?'"

"O, no!" said Sedgwick, "when she called you Jack, she was just a silly
colt that could not discriminate."

"I see," said Browning, "but I say, Jim, you ought to have been here
then. By Jove, she might have even fancied you."

"Don't you dare to talk that way," said Sedgwick, "or I will try to cut
you out when we see her, unless, as is quite possible, she has already
been some happy man's wife for two or three years."

"Jim, I say, stop that!" said Browning. "It will be time to face that
infernal possibility when I cannot help it. Bless my soul, but the
thought of it makes me sea-sick."

They breakfasted together, and were smoking their after-breakfast
cigars--Nevada-like--when the church bells began to ring.

"When did you attend church last, Browning?" asked Sedgwick.