“Sleeping in the wagon.”
“And you really met this mysterious wanderer?”
“Sure as you’re standing there.”
“What passed between you?”
“I gave her good evening, and she spoke to me fair enough but queer, and said that my children’s children might remember the day. Now, I ain’t got any children to have children; so I wouldn’t have thought of it again but for the man that came inquiring after her.”
“When was that?”
“Not fifteen minutes after.”
“Did you tell the crowd here that?”
“Yep. I sold two dozen wedding-rings on the strength and romance of that point. From my description they allowed it was a painter man named Sedgwick. I thought maybe I’d call in and have him touch up the wagon a bit where she’s rusty.”
“And you heard the woman cry out less than an hour later?”