He saw the steak that poor Jenny had cooked for his dinner. It lay upon the floor, as she had lain on it. It was trodden and filthy and Pete kicked it spitefully. He saw an old rag of a dress that was Jenny's. It was the one she had discarded for Annawillee's horrid yellow rag of quarantine, which said, "I'm Annawillee, be wise and don't come near me." She had changed at Annie's, but Annie brought it back and put it in sight. For she was a spiteful devil.
"What for?" said Pete. A dull fear entered his heart which did not dispossess his anger. "What for: kahta she leave dless?"
It was a "dless" indeed. But she did not need it then. There were certain beautiful garments at Quin's house, and there would be more.
"I'll kick her when I find her," said Pete. He ran out and went straight to the next shack, to Indian Annie's den.
He found her and Annawillee, and both were drunk, but not yet too drunk for speech, or for the discretion of the arranged lie.
"You see Jenny?" he demanded.
Annie lifted her claws to heaven and moaned.
"I so sorry, Pete, Jenny bad klootchman!"
"What you mean, you old devil?" roared Pete, in horrid fear.
"I tell you delate, I tell you, Pete. She klatawa with—with——"