She shrank back against her husband, amazed and hurt. “What do you mean?” she stammered; “we—we are married. Will you not speak to my—my husband?”
A silence, too awful to last, was broken by a hoarse laugh.
“You’re all right, Jim,” said the elder Crawford, slowly. “Ophir Steel won’t slip through your fingers when I’m under the sod. Been married long, Jim?”
THE FIRE-WARDEN
I
AND of course what I buy is my own,” continued Burleson, patiently. “No man here will question that, I suppose?”