happy doing that. It must of been like death to her."

"Why did she do it, Curly?" he whispered. "How could she? Why?"

"I done told you, Colonel," says I. "It was because she found she was a
woman. She hadn't knew that before--nor us neither."

At length he got up, but he couldn't stand up straight.

"How can we keep this quiet?" says he.

We couldn't keep it quiet at all. It was all over the house right now.
That Annette girl had read all them Peanut letters before William ever
got 'em. Like enough he'd read 'em too. They was scared when we walked
into their part of the house.

"Where's that dog?" says Old Man Wright.

William, he got pale.

"Very good, sir," says he, and pretends to go after Peanut, which he
knows wasn't there.

"Hi suppose she took 'im along with 'er, sir," says William after a
while.

Annette she chips in:

"_Oui, oui_--yes, yes; she took him with her."

"Took him with her? What do you mean? What do you know about it? Keep
quiet, you people!" says Old Man Wright. "Get into that room!" He locked
them in.

"Now, Curly----" says he.

I knew he was clear in his own mind by now that the girl had run away
with that gardener. He'd maybe go over there.

"No, Colonel," says I; "you keep out of this."

"What do you mean?" says he. "Ain't you my friend at all? Ain't I got a
friend in all the world?"

"You're alderman here," I says, "and that's the same as being sher'f.
When you was sher'f you couldn't do what the law said you couldn't--now
could you? You have to keep up the law when you're a alderman or sher'f.
With me, it's different. Besides, this is my job, not yours."

"Curly," says he, and I could see his jaw get hard all along the aidge,
"Curly, ain't there no place on earth for a pore old broken-hearted
man?"

"Never mind just yet, Colonel," says I. "It ain't your turn," says
I--"that's all. Sometimes," I says to him, "it's best to go a little
slow at first and not make no foolish breaks. Let's just take it easy
till we see which way the cat has jumped--we don't know much yet."

"She--she wouldn't kill herself?" says he sudden; and he got even
whiter.

"I don't think so," I says; "and I'll tell you why. I don't think she
was thinking so much of dying when she said 'I am a woman.' It was
life!"

He looked at me quiet.

"She said that?"

"Uh-huh!--sever'l times. And it was like you said, Colonel, after all.
There ain't no fence high enough to keep a young man and a young