“You bet your bottom dollar I don't. The man who puts his head twice into the Divorce Court deserves to be shot sitting.” Raine was startled. What was the man driving at? “You see, I guess I ought to have married her afterwards,” continued Hockmaster. “But those mines I told you of carried me down to Mexico. Now when a man's got a blaze at a million of dollars he can't afford to be fooling around after a woman. She can wait, but the dollars won't. That's what I was trying to fix up to tell you--as a real friend.” “Tell me to-morrow,” said Raine, preparing to rise. “Let us get home now.” He had no desire to hear the tipsy details of Hockmaster's past life. But the American put detaining hands on his arm and shoulders, in familiar confidence. “I want your opinion--I seduced her from her husband, and didn't marry her after the divorce, and when I saw her this evening for the first time after eight years--” Raine leaped to his feet with a horrible surmise. “What the devil are you talking about? Whom do you mean?” “Yes,” said Hockmaster, nodding in a melancholy way. “I thought I was a mean skunk. You are disgusted.” Raine seized him by the collar and shook him. “Answer my question--which lady do you mean?” “Oh!” said Hockmaster, “of course. You don't know. Why, the sweetest, prettiest woman there, sitting next to you. I guess she was upset at seeing me.” He went on talking. But Raine heard no more. His brain was in a whirl, a nausea was at his heart. His prized meerschaum fell from his hand, and, knocking against the seat, dropped broken on to the ground; but he was unconscious of it. Everything blazed before him in a livid light. A horrible repulsion from the inert, ignoble figure sprawling beneath him grew into a loathing anger. His fingers thrilled to seize the American again by the collar and shake the life out of him like a rat. “You damned little cad--betraying her to a stranger--you infernal, drunken little cad!” Controlling his rage with a great effort, he turned, and strode away with set teeth. He heard the American's voice calling him, but he went on. “Hallo! Chetwynd!” cried Hockmaster, rising with difficulty to his feet. “Chetwy--ynd!” He staggered forward a couple of paces and then fell prone. After a few ineffectual efforts to get up, he abandoned the attempt, and lay quiescent. Raine walked about fifty yards. He had heard the fall. At first it was a grim satisfaction to let him lie there--all night if need were. But then it struck him with unpleasant suddenness that Hockmaster was carrying about his person an immense sum of money in notes and gold. To leave him to the risk of being robbed and perhaps knocked on the head was impossible. He conquered his repugnance and turned, back. “Get up.” “Eh? All right. I think I'll go to shleep.” Raine lifted him to his feet, shook him to a degree of soberness, and with one arm around him, marched again homewards.