“It's bad. She didn't have enough to eat or keep her warm. She's going to live at Joe Cartier's place and take her meals there. It's a good deal cheaper'n the other. I told her you was coming down Sundays.” “What'd you say to her, Hunch? What'd she say? Anything special? Tell me about it.” “Guess there ain't nothing to tell.” “Seems to me it's kind of funny if a man can't find out nothing about his own wife. You was down there and you see her all day. I don't see why I ain't got a right to know about it.” “Oh, shut up. You ain't got a right to nothing from the way you've treated her.” “Look here, Hunch Badeau, you've got to tell me.” “How long you been saying what I got to do and what I ain't got to do?” “That's all right, but----” “Yes, it's dead right.” Bruce stopped and took Hunch's arm. “Take your hand off me.” Bruce's hand dropped. “Now, don't get ugly, Hunch. I just wanted to know about her. I ain't seen her for a good while.” “Well, do you think that's my fault? I'll tell you about her. She's fixed up where she's got enough to eat and drink, she's got people to talk to and chirp her up, and she's waiting for you to come down next Sunday. If you're man enough to keep straight and go down there and do the square thing, you won't find me in your way. If you ain't, you can go to hell for all I care.” Bruce was silent, and they climbed to the room and went to bed. A day or two later Mr. Jackson sent for Hunch. “Badeau,” he said, “how about this man Considine?” “How do you mean?” “What kind of work is he doing?” “All right as far's I can see.” “He's a friend of yours, ain't he?” “Yes, he used to work for me when I had the schooner.” “I'll tell you, Badeau, I've had some complaints about him. You know I don't want any man that can't do the work.” “I think he's doing pretty good, sir.” “Well, I'll count on you to keep an eye on him. If you catch him loafing, don't waste any time on him.” Hunch went over the conversation in the evening with Bruce. It frightened Bruce, and he made promises which he kept for the rest of the week. They did not talk about Mamie until Saturday night, after they had been sitting by the stove for a long time in silence. Bruce was nervous. “Say, Hunch,” he said, “would you go down if you was me?” “Where?” “You know--down to Marne's to-morrow.” “Would I go? What you talking about?” “I don't know. What do you s'pose she'll say?” “I guess you know what she ought to say, all right.” “Do you think she'll be mad?” “Oh, you shut up!” Bruce went to bed early, but Hunch heard him tossing until late. In the morning he was moody. “Hunch,” he said, after breakfast, “what time does the train go down?” “'Bout half an hour.” “Say, I s'pose I might as well take it as the noon train.” “That's your business-'tain't mine.” “Well, I guess I will. Say, Hunch, I'll tell you--s'pose you come along.” “Guess not.”