Lem heard a chair move on the porch and hoped Johnnie Alberson was going, but he was to have no such luck. He heard Johnnie speak. “Henrietta,” he said, “when are we going to be married?” “Never,” Henrietta answered, but not as if the question had offended her. “But I'm not going to take that for an answer,” he said. “I can't. It would make a liar of me. I told Miss Susan I was going to marry you, and she rather depends on it, poor soul.” “I told you, Johnnie, I have a husband. It is ridiculous, sinful, for you to talk to me of marrying.” “I see! Which husband do you mean, Etta? The Colorado one who was and then was n't?” “Oh! please don't!” Henrietta begged. “I can't tell you. Not now. Not yet. Perhaps never. I--” “If you don't mean the Colorado myth,” said Johnnie, quite unabashed, “you must mean Freeman. Do you?” There was a momentary silence. “Yes, I do mean Freeman,” Henrietta said then. “How did you know he was my husband?” “Well, you see,” said Johnnie slowly but wickedly, “he sold you to me. The night of the row about Lem stealing Miss Susan's money, Freeman came to my room after you had taken Lem, and we had a frank talk--quite a frank talk. So I bought you.” “John!” “Yes; I did. You cost me three hundred dollars, too--a lot of money to pay for a wife these days. You cost me two hundred--the money he stole from me--and another hundred in cold cash that I gave him to get away on. And my very best pants. That's three hundred dollars plus. So that settles that.” “He is still my husband.” “But not for long. He threw in a promise to that effect. I made him. He's getting a divorce now.” “But he can't. I've always been more than faithful.” “Yes, he can. You stole his trousers. That's grounds for the strongest kind of divorce. That's cruelty _de luxe_. So that's settled. When are you going to marry me?” Henrietta, in spite of herself, laughed, but was serious again instantly. “Never, John,” she said. “I'm not going to do any more marrying. I'm going to do penance for the marrying I have done in the past. If what you say is true and Freeman frees me, I--” “What?” “I want to take that poor Lem boy and make a good man of him. I want to do in Lem what I undid in Freeman. I want that to be my penance.” Johnnie laughed, and arose. “All right! We'll leave it that way to-night. Good-night, Henrietta. You've some penance ahead of you, if I know that boy! Good-night.” Henrietta sat thinking after Johnnie was gone. She had many things she wished to let drift through her mind, trying each as it came up. Johnnie Alberson first of all. If Freeman did get a divorce-- “Say!” Henrietta, although seldom nervous, was startled by this voice coming from the bushes. “Who is that?” she asked, her heart standing still for a moment. Her first thought was that it was Freeman returned. “It's Lem,” the boy whispered. “Is he gone? Can I come out?” “Oh, Lem! You did frighten me! Yes, come here. Where have you been? You poor child--”