"I don't want no fifteen dollars," said the man; "and I don't want none of your chinning. I want the money your husband's going to pay off with—"
"Oh, Tom's money!" in quite a tone of relief. "Oh! I haven't anything to do with Tom's money. If you can get any money out of Tom it's more than I can do. And I wouldn't advise you to try, either; for he always carries a pistol in the same pocket with it, and he's covered all over with knives and derringers and bull-dogs, so that sometimes I don't like to go near him till he's unloaded. You have to, in this country of desperadoes. You see—"
"Yes, I see, you little hen-sparrer," his eyes coming back to her from a survey of the room, "that you've got Tom's money in the house here, and would like to throw me off the scent!"
"If I had," said she, "you'd only get it across my dead body! Hadn't you better look for it, and have me tell you when you're hot and when you're cold?"
"Come!" said he, again; "I've had enough of your slack—"
"You're not very polite," she said, with something like a pout.
"People in my line ain't," he answered, grimly. "I want that money! and I want it now! I've no time to lose. I'd rather come by it peaceable," he growled, "but if—"
"Well, you can take it; of course, you're the stronger. But I told you before, it's all I have, and I've very particular use for it. You just sit down!" she cried, indicating a chair, with the air of really having been alone so long in these desolate regions as to be glad of having some one to talk to, and throwing herself into the big one opposite, because in truth she could not stand up another moment. And perhaps feeling as if a wren were expostulating with him about robbing her nest, the man dropped the angry arm with which he had threatened her, and leaned over the back of the chair.
"There it is," said she, "right under your hand all the time. You won't have to rip up the mattress for it, or rummage the clothes-press, or hunt through the broken crockery on the top shelves of the kitchen cupboard," she ran on, as if she were delighted to hear the sound of her own voice, and couldn't talk fast enough. "I always leave my purse on the dressing-case, though Tom has told me, time and again, it wasn't safe. But out here—"
"Stop!" thundered the man. "If you know enough to stop. Stop! or I'll cut your cursed tongue out and make you stop. And then, I suppose, you'd gurgle. That's not what I want—though I'll take it. I've told you, time and again, that I want the paymaster's money. That isn't right under my hand—and where is it? I'll put daylight through that little false heart of yours if you don't give it to me without five more words—"