They scattered, and Constance glanced about her.  “Where’s some grease—­some lard?  Quick!” she called out to Whiteman, who was looking on.

“In here, lady—­dis vay,” he answered eagerly; but she outfooted him to the rear of the store, carrying Arabella in her arms.  Spying a lard tin, she thrust off the cover, and plunged in a hand.  Immediately the sobs of Arabella changed to sputterings, for the physician in charge had covered her face, lips, and a goodly portion of the interior of her mouth and throat with the ameliorating unguent!  At this act of first aid, the wails of the woman from Kansas ceased also, and a vast sigh of relief arose from the confederated helplessness of Heart’s Desire.

“Is she going to die?” gasped the woman from Kansas.

“No,” said Constance, scornfully.  “I’ve seen much worse burns.  The lye has perhaps lost a little of its strength, too.  The burns are all well in the front of the mouth and tongue, and I don’t think she swallowed any of it.  Lard is as good as anything to stop the burn.  Why didn’t you think of it?”

“I don’t know, ma’am,” confessed the woman from Kansas.

A sudden loquacity now seized upon all those recently perturbed and silent.

“Now,” said Curly, “it’s this-a-way; the women they must have left that can of lye settin’ around.  It’s mighty careless of ’em.  I needed my strychnine, but there ain’t no sense in leavin’ lye settin’ around.  Them twins was due to eat it, shore.  Why, they was broke to eat anything that comes in tin cans!”

Constance gathered Arabella in her arms.  The tailored gown was ruined now.  One hand remained gloved, but both were grease-laden to the wrists.  She was unconscious of all this.  Her gaze, frowning, solicitous, maternal, bent itself upon the face of her patient.  The men of Heart’s Desire looked on, silent, relieved, adoring.  A few began to edge toward the open air.

“You ain’t no kind of a drug-store man,” said the postmaster, scornfully, to Tomlinson.

“Why ain’t I?” retorted the latter, hotly.  “What chance does a merchant get in this town?  What do I get for carrying a full line of drugs here for years?  Now, lard ain’t drugs.  It ain’t in the pharmacopy.”

“I don’t know but it’s a good thing for that kid,” said Curly.  “She ought to be plumb soft-spoken all her life, after all that lard in her frontispiece.  But it won’t do ’em no good,—­they’ll eat my strychnine next.  This here stage-coach—­with her along,” jerking his thumb towards the physician in charge, “won’t be any more’n out of sight before that twin corporation will be fryin’ dynamite on the kitchen stove.  I shore thought that set of twins was busted this time for keeps.  Unless there’s two of ’em, twins ain’t no good!”

“Ma’am, your dress is just ruined,” said the woman from Kansas; “you are lard clean from head to foot!”