Andy, his brows pulled down over unhappy eyes, glared fixedly up at the top of the slide.  In a minute they appeared, held gesticulating counsel, wavered and came down together, upon their stomachs.  The strange girl was in the lead, with Mary next holding to the girl’s feet.  Behind her slid the man, gripping tightly the ankles of Mary.  Andy’s teeth set savagely together, though he saw that others were doing exactly the same; old women, young women, girls, men and boys came hurtling down the big slide, singly, in couples, in three and fours.

The spectacle began to fascinate him, so that for a minute or two he could forget Mary and the man.  There was a roar of voices, the barking as of seals, screams, laughter and much splashing.  Men and women dove from the sides like startled frogs into a pond; they swam, floated and stood panting along the walls; swung from the trapeze (Andy, remembering his career with the circus, when he was “Andre de Greno,” Champion Bareback Rider of the Western Hemisphere, wished that his leg was well so that he could show them a few things about that trapeze business) and troubled the waters with much splashing.  He could not keep Mary always in view, but when he did get sight of her she seemed to be having a very good time, and not to be worrying in the least about him and his sins.

Twice Andy Green half rose from his seat, meaning to leave the plunge, the Casino and the whole merry-making crowd; but each time he settled back, telling himself that he hated a quitter, and that he guessed he’d buy a few more chips and stay in the game.

It seemed a long time before Mary finally emerged in the blue linen and the white hat, but Andy was waiting doggedly at the entrance and took his place beside her, forcing the man to walk beside the girl whom Mary introduced as Lola Parsons.  The man’s name was Roberts, but the girls called him Freddie, and he seemed composed mostly of a self-satisfied smile and the latest fad in male attire.  Andy set himself to the task of “cutting Mary out of the main herd” so that he might talk with her.  Thus it happened that, failing a secluded spot in the immediate neighborhood of the Casino, which buzzed like a disturbed hive of gigantic bees, Mary presently found herself on a car that was clanging its signal of departure, and there was no sign of Freddie and Lola Parsons.

“We lost ’em, back there,” Andy told her calmly when she inquired.  “And as to where we’re going, I don’t know; as far as this lightning-wagon will take us.”

“This car goes clear out to the Cliffs,” Mary said discouragingly.

“All right.  We’re going out to the cliffs, then,” Andy smiled blandly down upon the nodding, white feather in her hat.

“But I promised Lola and Freddie—­”

“Oh, that’s all right.  I’ll take the blame.  Were yuh surprised to see me here?”

“Why should I be?  Everybody comes to Santa Cruz, sooner or later.”