The Colonel dug the letter out of his vest pocket, and Toole read it. It was short:
Dear Miss Briggs: I'm off. Good-by. Business in Kilo is no good. Sorry I can't square up, but I leave you the box in my room in part payment. W. R.
“Prosecution's exhibit No. 1,” said the attorney.
“Jest what I was tellin' Miss Sally,” said the Colonel. “I says to her to keep that paper, and it might come handy. Mebby you heard that me and Miss Sally was what you might call keepin' company?”
“That's interesting,” said Toole. “Been keeping it long?”
“Quite some consid'able time,” said the Colonel. “Long enough, land knows, and we'd a-been done with it by this time and married, if that Skinner hadn't come crowdin' in where he wasn't wanted. What right has a man like him to come pushin' in like that? His wife ain't been dead twelve months yet. It ain't decent of him, is it?”
“Do you want a legal opinion?” asked Toole, reaching for a large law book that lay on the table.
“No, I don't!” cried the Colonel in alarm; “I don't want to run up no charges. I don't care whether it's legal or not, it ain't friendly, after him and me has worked together buildin' up this Citizens' Party, and all. What does he mean, sendin' Miss Sally porterhouses, when she only orders flank steak, like he was wrappin' up love and affection into every steak? He's got mighty proud since he set out to build that there Kilo Opery House of his. He's a fool to spend money on an opery house in this town. He's a beefy, puffy old money bag, he is. He needn't tell ME he expects to get even on what he spent on that Opery House Block out of what he'll make on it; he just built it to make a show, so some dumb idiot like Sally Briggs would think he amounted to more than others, and marry him.”
The Colonel brought down his hand with a bang on the attorney's table.
“What kind of an idiot did you call Miss Briggs?” asked Toole pleasantly.