She thought this over for a minute. There was no surprise; neither was there any of the joy he had anticipated; and no sign of reaction or tears.
CHAPTER XIII
AND HETTY COMES TO BADGER TO LIVE
"Where is she?" she asked.
"Who? This wife? Oh, over beyond. Not so very far from here. You won't never see her," was the careless reply.
Again she appeared to ponder what he said. A slight shiver was quickly repressed. At last: "So that's what he is? You reckon—"
"Where's your outfit, ma'am?" the sheriff interrupted.
"My trunk? It's here. I've taken a room."
They were in the parlor of the Fashion, one flight above the street. It was sumptuously furnished, the proprietor taking pride in his establishment—a red plush sofa, a table, three chairs, and a cottage-organ. On the wall was a chromo lithograph of a girl clinging to a wave-swept pillar of stone. This was entitled "Rock of Ages."