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 in his chair, perhaps to feel the bullet reputed to be there—and stretched out his legs.

"Tom," he said, "I want to know something. If you answer that squarely But first of all, where's Little Dog?"

"I haven't seen him. Maybe it's just as well. When things were bad last winter, if I'd happened on him I figured to put a bullet in him, agreement or no agreement."

"Why, if he hasn't given you any trouble?"

"He cut my dam last fall. All the water I had."

"When was that?"

"Before I sent—my wife into town here."

"I see. Tom, don't you owe me a little information on that matter?"

"I figure that's between me and her," he said stubbornly.

"Well, look at it this way. I loaned that money for two reasons: first, because I thought you would make good, and second, because I was fond of your wife. In my mind it was a partnership arrangement. If you have dissolved that partnership I have a right to know."

"I'm ready to liquidate, if you are."

"Oh, don't be such a God-damned fool, Tom. She has left you, has she?"

Tom nodded sullenly. He could not speak.

"Why?"

"She'd been planning to go for some time. Then something happened, and she took the first train East."

"The something was the Hamel girl, I suppose?"

There was little that Jennie Tulloss did not know.

Tom nodded and got up.

"There was nothing to it," he said somberly, "but she thought there was." He picked up his battered Stetson and rose. "I didn't come here to discuss my troubles," he said. "I'm not asking her back and she knows it. She wrote once, saying she would come if I did, but I hadn't done anything I was ashamed of. She was tired of me, that's all." He stood, fingering his hat. "I was just something for her to play around with for awhile. That's all."

"You're sure of that, are you?"