"A coincidence—a rare coincidence, I must say."
"Course, it couldn't 'a' been our Jud," said Jim, conclusively. "He's already married."
"Oh, no, no! Of course not, Mr. Hardesty. He is devoted to Justine and—and——"
"An' a man 'at's got any sense ain't goin' to load hisself down with two when it's so derned hard to git rid of one," grinned Jim, referring to his own connubial condition.
"And bigamy is a very serious crime. I wonder if any one else in the neighborhood has noticed the similarity of names?"
"I ain't heerd no one mention it, Mr. Marks. By ginger, you ain't got no—er—suspicions, have ye?" asked Jim, suddenly acute. Mr. Marks stammered confusedly and assured him that no such thought had entered his head.
"Would you mind giving me Dudley's Chicago address?" he asked, at last, that same indefinable something struggling for recognition.
"He's half way to Europe by this time," explained Jim.
"I feel that it would be wise to secure a letter from Jud himself in case rumor confuses him with this other man. It would be just to him and to Justine, Mr. Hardesty. If you'll give me his address I'll write to him and we can have his own word for it in case people get to talking."
"Then you are afraid people will think it's Jud?" demanded Jim.