“Why don't she leave?”
“Afraid she'll lose it all, if she does. Same way with the coachman.”
“Where's Carroll gone?” asked the postmaster.
“Don't know. The girl said he'd gone to Chicago on business.”
“Guess he'll want to go farther than Chicago on business if he don't look out, before long. I don't see how he's goin' to have the weddin', anyway. I don't believe anybody 'll trust him here, and, unless I miss my guess, he won't find it very easy anywhere else.”
“They say the man the girl's goin' to marry is rich. Maybe he'll foot the bills,” said Drake.
“Mebbe he is,” assented Amidon. Then he went out in earnest, and the postmaster with him.
“Look at here,” said Amidon, mysteriously, as the two men separated on the next corner. “I'll tell you something, if you want to know.”
“What?”
“I believe Drake trusts those Carrolls a little.”