Glendon did not reply. Then the door opened and Katherine, with a bathrobe over her thin white gown and her bare feet thrust into a pair of shabby little kid slippers, saw her husband, dripping from the rain, brush past her into the room. Tatters ran up but received a kick, while Glendon dropped the gold-laden bags with a dull thud on the floor. "Damn that brute!" he snarled. "Make him quit his noise and keep out of my way if you don't want him killed!" The collie crept under the bed and Glendon threw off his streaming coat. "God! What a night!" Katherine stared at him, dazed and uncomprehending. He regarded her with a nasty smile. "Well, you don't seem overjoyed to see me," he sneered. "Nice wifely reception I get. Thought I was locked up for good, I suppose. Didn't expect any visitors tonight, eh?" The significance of his remark did not penetrate her thoughts. She stood silently looking at him, trying to understand how he was here, waiting his explanation. Glendon turned in rage. "What do you mean standing there staring like an idiot?" he demanded. "This is no time to waste. Get a move on you. I want some grub and dry clothes." Mechanically, dumbly, she hastened to obey him. Glendon ate the food that she set before him, then he finished with several drinks from the bottle in his pocket. The warmth of the room began to effect his head, after drinking; it loosened his tongue. The woman who watched him with dead eyes, made no comment. "Wentz knocked the deputy over and tied him and opened the jail doors," he bragged as he ate. "They didn't find it out for some time, and when they saw us it was so dark they could not keep track of me among the rocks. They shot Wentz's horse and he killed himself. Damn him! It served him right. If he had held his tongue at the trial, Alpaugh and I would have escaped conviction. Then we could have helped them all as we promised to do. Alpaugh and Bravo Juan kept together. I've got to keep moving. They got me in the leg, it's only a scratch."