culty suppressed, to use the strength of her white but brawny
arms, in shoving him out of the house. To aid her self-control, he, on
his part, began to edge towards the door, always eyeing her and always
speaking loudly in admirably acted tipsy unconsciousness of the fact.

"I'm a man who likes my own way as well as anybody," were the words with
which he sought to save the situation, and further his own purposes. "But
I never quarrel with a woman. Her whims are sacred to me. I may not
believe in them; they may cost me money and comfort; but I yield, I do,
when they are as strong in their wishes as you be. I'm going, missus
--I'm going--Oh!"

The exclamation burst from him. He could not help it. The door behind him
had opened, and a man stepped in, causing him so much astonishment that
he forgot himself. The woman was big, bigger than most women who rule the
roost and do the work in haunts where work calls for muscle and a good
head behind it. She was also rosy and of a make to draw the eye, if not
the heart. But the man who now entered was small almost to the point of
being a manikin, and more than that, he was weazen of face and
ill-balanced on his two tiny, ridiculous legs. Yet she trembled at his
presence, and turned a shade paler as she uttered the feeble protest:

"Jim!"

"Is she making a fool of herself?" asked the little man in a voice as
shrill as it was weak. "Do your business with me. Women are no good." And
he stalked into the room as only little men can.

Sweetwater took out his ten; pointed to the snuggery, and tapped his
breast-pocket. "Whiskey here," he confided. "Bring me a glass. I don't
mind your farmers. They won't bother me. What I want is a locked door
and a still mouth in your head."

The last he whispered in the husband's ear as the wife crossed
reluctantly back to her books.

The man turned the bill he had received, over and over in his hand; then
scrutinised Sweetwater, with his first show of hesitation.

"You don't want to kill yourself?" he asked.

Sweetwater laughed with a show of good humour that appeared to relieve
the woman, if it did not the man.

"Oh, that's it," he cried. "That's what the missus was afraid of, was it?
Well, I vow! And ten thousand dollars to my credit in the bank! No, I
don't want to kill myself. I just want to booze to my heart's content,
with nobody by to count the glasses. You've known such fellers before,
and that cosey, little room over there has known t