I didn't know how to take him.
He was only joking of course." She smiled forgivingly at him, and
Thompson had the grace to flush a little.
"I am Jimmy Jones," said the second man. "I was a bartender in little
old Chi. Far cry from a missionary to a bartender, but I'll take my
chances on Paradise with Thompson any day."
"A--a bartender." Carol rubbed her slender fingers in bewilderment.
"I am Arnold Barrows, formerly a Latin professor. _Amo, mas, mat,_"
said the third man suddenly. "I am looking for my Paradise right here
on earth, and I am sorry you are married. My idea of Paradise is a
girl like you and a man like me, and everything else go hang."
Carol drew herself up as though poised for flight, a startled bird
taking wing.
Thompson and Jones laughed at her horrified face, but the professor
maintained his solemn gravity.
"He is just a fool," said the bartender encouragingly. "Don't bother
about him. It is not you in particular, he is nuts on all the girls.
Cheer up. We're not so bad as we sound. I have a cottage near you.
Tell the parson I'll be in to-morrow to give him the latest light on
the bonfires in perdition. I know all about them. Tell him we'll
organize a combination prayer-meeting; he can lead the prayer and I'll
give advanced lessons in bunny-hugs and fancy-fizzes.
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