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Trina was in the swing there that's my cousin Trina, you know who I mean and she fell out. By damn! I thought she'd killed herself; struck her face on a rock and knocked out a front tooth. It's a wonder she didn't kill herself. It IS a wonder; it is, for a fact. Ain't it, now? Huh? Ain't it? Y'ought t'have seen." McTeague had a vague idea that Marcus Schouler was stuck on his cousin Trina.
Then McTeague heaved himself up to his full six feet two, his face purpling, his enormous mallet-like fists raised over his head. His massive jaw protruded more than ever, while his teeth clicked and grated together; then he growled: "If ever I meet Marcus Schouler " he broke off abruptly, the white of his eyes growing suddenly pink. "Oh, if ever you DO," exclaimed Trina, catching her breath.
A waiter rushed in, the two billiard players returned, a little crowd formed. There was a veritable scene. All at once the ball slipped out of McTeague's jaws as easily as it had gone in. What a relief! He dropped into a chair, wiping his forehead, gasping for breath. On the strength of the occasion Marcus Schouler invited the entire group to drink with him.
Marcus Schouler was in his element during the whole time of the celebration. He was one of the marshals of the parade, and was to be seen at every hour of the day, wearing a borrowed high hat and cotton gloves, and galloping a broken-down cab-horse over the cobbles. He carried a baton covered with yellow and white calico, with which he made furious passes and gestures.
Selina had painted a view of the Golden Gate upon a polished slice of redwood that answered the purposes of a paper weight. Marcus Schouler after impressing upon Trina that his gift was to HER, and not to McTeague had sent a chatelaine watch of German silver; Uncle Oelbermann's present, however, had been awaited with a good deal of curiosity. What would he send?
He was an Englishman and an expert dog surgeon, but Marcus Schouler was a bungler in the profession. His father had been a veterinary surgeon who had kept a livery stable near by, on California Street, and Marcus's knowledge of the diseases of domestic animals had been picked up in a haphazard way, much after the manner of McTeague's education.
The smoke of his cheap tobacco drifted into the faces of the group at the adjoining table, and Marcus strangled and coughed. Instantly his eyes flamed. "Say, for God's sake," he vociferated, "choke off on that pipe! If you've got to smoke rope like that, smoke it in a crowd of muckers; don't come here amongst gentlemen." "Shut up, Schouler!" observed Heise in a low voice.
The girl carried a huge bunch of wilting poppies and wild flowers. As the car approached McTeague's window the young man got up and swung himself off the platform, waving goodby to the party. Suddenly McTeague recognized him. "There's Marcus Schouler," he muttered behind his mustache. Marcus Schouler was the dentist's one intimate friend.
GENERAL ACCOUNTS. J. B. McMaster, People of the United States, I. 525-604, II. 1-88; R. Hildreth, United States, IV. 25-410; J. Schouler, United States, I. 74-220; H. Von Holst, Constitutional History, I. 64- 111; T. Pitkin, Political and Civil History, II. 317-355; Gen. Tucker, United States, I. 384-503; J. S. Landon, Constitutional History, 97- 119; Bryant and Gay, Popular History, IV. 100-123.
"It's Zerkow," wailed Maria, pulling him back into the room and bolting the door, "and he's got a knife as long as THAT. Oh, my Lord, here he comes now! Ain't that him? Listen." Zerkow was coming up the stairs, calling for Maria. "Don't you let him get me, will you, Mister Schouler?" gasped Maria. "I'll break him in two," shouted Marcus, livid with rage. "Think I'm afraid of his knife?"
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