He seemed to shrink in stature, standing before the other man’s uprear of imperious will.

“All right,” said Major Arms.

The two walked on in silence for a moment.  Arms relit his cigar.  Suddenly Carroll spoke.

“No, I will not, either,” he said, abruptly.

“Will not what?”

“I will not consent to the quiet wedding.  Ina shall not be disappointed.  This means too much to a girl.  Good God! it is the one occasion of a woman’s life, and women are children always.  It is cruelty to children.”

“Then I pay,” Arms said.

“No, I pay,” said Carroll.

“You pay?”

“I pay,” Carroll repeated, doggedly.

“How?”

“Never mind how.  I tell you I give you my word of honor I pay every dollar of those expenses the day after the wedding.”

“You will rob Peter to pay Paul, then,” declared Major Arms, incredulously and wrathfully.

Carroll laughed in a hard fashion.  “I would kill Peter, besides robbing him, if it was necessary,” he said.

“If you think I’ll have that way out of it—­”

“I tell you I will pay those expenses, every dollar, the next day, and Ina shall have her little festival.  What more do you want?” demanded Carroll.  “See here, Arms, you will take care of the girl better than I can.  I am at the dogs fast enough, and the dogs’ is not a desirable locality in which to see one’s family.  You can take care of Ina, and God knows I want you to have her, but have her you shall not unless you can show some lingering confidence in her father.  Even at the dogs’ a man may have a little pride left.  Either we have the wedding as it is planned, and you trust me to settle the bills for it, or you can give up my daughter.”

Arms stood silent, looking at Carroll.  “Very well,” he said, finally.

“All right, then,” said Carroll.

Arms remained staring at Carroll with a curious, puzzled expression.

“Good God!  Arthur, how do you ever stand it living this sort of life?” he cried, suddenly.

“I have to stand it,” replied Carroll.  “As well ask a shot fired from a cannon how it likes being hurled through the air.  I was fired into this.”

“You ought to have had some power of resistance, some will of your own.”

“There are forces for every living man for which he has no power of resistance.  Mine hit me.”

“If ever there was a damned, smooth-tongued scoundrel—­” said Arms, retrospectively.

“Where is he?” Carroll asked, and his voice sounded strange.

“There.”

“How is he?”

“Prospering like the wicked in the psalms.  There was one respect in which you showed will and self-control, Arthur—­that you didn’t shoot him!”

“I was a fool,” said Carroll.

“He wasn’t worth hanging for,” said the major, shortly.

“I’d hang five times over if I could get even with him,” said Carroll.