“Gulden, it was your side-partner, Bill.”
“Bill?” Gulden's voice held a queer, coarse constraint. Then he added, gruffly. “Thought you and him pulled together.”
“Well, we didn't.”
“And—where's Bill now?” This time Joan heard a slow, curious, cold note in the heavy voice, and she interpreted it as either doubt or deceit.
“Bill's dead and Halloway, too,” replied Kells.
Gulden turned his massive, shaggy head in the direction of Joan. She had not the courage to meet the gaze upon her. The other man spoke:
“Split over the girl, Jack?”
“No,” replied Kells, sharply. “They tried to get familiar with—MY WIFE—and I shot them both.”
Joan felt a swift leap of hot blood all over her and then a coldness, a sickening, a hateful weakness.
“Wife!” ejaculated Gulden.