“What do ye know about him?”
“Nothing, except that he tried to rob me.”
“And what do ye want me to take him on for? To have him get away some night with a Saratoga trunk and—”
“No, to KEEP him from getting away with it. He's been on the ragged edge of life for some months, if I read him aright, and has all he can do to keep his footing. I found him a while ago by the merest accident, and he is still holding on. A week with you and your husband will do him more good than a legacy. He will get a new standard.”
“What's he been doin' that he's up against it like this?” she asked, ignoring the compliment.
“Trying to forget a wife who went back on him—so he tells me.”
“Has he done it?”
“Yes. If you can believe him. She has become a drunkard.”
“Well—that's about the worst thing can happen to a man—if he's telling ye the truth. What's become of her?”
“He did not say. All I know is that he has not seen her since she went away.”