"Oh, Happy, Happy," she whispered, "it's not true, it's not true—say it's not true!"
"It is true, Barbie," sez I, an' she gave a scream.
"It is not true," sez Dick, an' she glanced from one to the other.
"I can prove it at once," sez I; "she's here to-night."
"Who?" asked Dick with a start.
"The wife you left in Laramie," sez I.
"Good God, you haven't brought her here, have you!" shouted Dick, an' Barbie a queer, heart-broken little laugh. "It's true, it's true," she sez. "You have convicted yourself, and it's true. Happy,"—she went on speakin' to me,—"of all the men I have ever known you are the only one that has been always true to me. You said that you would never marry me unless I asked you to—prove to me that this man is already married, an' I'll marry you. I'll get down on my knees an' beg you to marry me. The world seems full of wolves an' I want a man I can trust."
She was wild, an' the look in her eyes frightened me; but she came over an' put her hand on my arm, an' said: "Prove it, prove it, an' then let us go away together!"
"She's out in the office," sez I. "Shall I bring her in here?"
"No," sez Dick. "Happy, for heaven's sake don't do anything hasty."