'Where's the dining room?'
'Over thar—'tother side the hall.'
Passing out of the room, I met Preston, and we proceeded together to the supper table. When we were seated, I remarked:
'By the way, I have just seen the husband of our stage coach acquaintance. He's a rum-looking customer.'
'Yes, I suppose he has taken to drinking again. The whipping and the loss of Phylly have probably worked on him.'
'You don't mean to say he is Phylly's husband?'
'Yes, didn't I tell you?'
'No. Two wives under one roof! Well, that's more than most white men can afford.'
'That's a fact. It's an awkward business; what had better be done?'
'Done? Why, let him go. You'll be well rid of him. He's a worthless fellow, or nature dosn't write English. I read 'scoundrel' all over his face.'