"Yes. My first wife died. We lived on a farm in South Carolina, and were as happy a couple as you ever knew. I owned a two-horse farm, and raised plenty of cotton and corn and some hogs, while my wife raised plenty of chickens and garden truck. We had two boys, whom I kept in school in town during the winter. And then, after my crops were laid by, my wife looked after the place, while I went out and sold song books and pictures, and preached."
"Then you're a preacher, too," said Wyeth, when he paused a moment. "I didn't think you were a preacher," he continued, looking him over.
"Well, not altogether. I preach sometimes, but not much since I married the last woman."
"How's that?"
"To tell you the truth, that woman almost made me lose my religion, she was such a devil."
Wyeth was silent, but attentive. Slim went on.
"Didn't you meet my brother? He was here not long ago. I had him up here in the office. You might have seen him about the building here. You could not have mistaken him for any one else, if you had seen him."
"Lord, no!" Slim exclaimed, with a laugh. "Not at all. And you would not have believed it; but ten years ago he was as spare as I am. Then he went to preaching, and since then he has become the fattest thing you ever saw."
Wyeth smiled naively. Coleman proceeded with his interrupted narrative.