--- Say, did you folks come to see the gold-mine?"

"M-mine?" babbled Milt.

"Course not. Pinky said I was to show it, but I'm so sore on that
low-life hound now, I swear I won't even take the trouble and lie about
it. No more gold in that crick than there is in my eye. Or than there's
flour or pork in the house!"

The woman's voice was rising. Her gestures were furious. Claire and Milt
stood close, their hands slipping together.

"What d' you think of a man that'd go off and leave a lady without half
enough to eat, while he gallivanted around, trying to raise money by
gambling, when he was offered a good job up here? He's a gambler--told
me he was a rich mine-owner, but never touched a mine in his life. Lying
hound--worst talker in ten counties! Got a gambler's hand on him, too--I
ought to seen it! Oh, wait till I get hold of him; just wait!"

Claire thought of the still hand--so still--that she had seen under the
edge of the upturned car. She tried to speak, while the woman raved on,
wrath feeding wrath:

"Thank God, I ain't really his wife! My husband is a fine man--Mr.
Kloh--Dlorus Kloh, my name is. Mr. Kloh's got a fine job with the mill,
at North Yakima. Oh, I was a fool! This gambler Pinky Parrott, he comes
along with his elegant ways, and he hands me out a swell line of gab,
and I ups and leaves poor Kloh, and the kid, and the nicest kid---- Say,
please, could you folks take me wherever you're going? Maybe I could get
a job again--used to was a good waitress, and I ain't going to wait here
any longer for that lying, cheating, mean-talking----"

"Oh, Mrs. Kloh, please don't! He's dead!" wailed Claire.

"Dead? Pinky? Oh--my--God! And I won't ever see him, and he was so funny
and----"

She threw herself on the ground; she kicked her heels; she tore at her
loosely caught, tarnished blonde hair.

Claire knelt by her. "You mustn't--you mustn't--we'll----"

"Damn you, with your smug-faced husband there, and your fine auto and
all, butting into poor folks' troubles!" shrieked Dlorus.

Claire stumbled to her feet, stood with her clenched right hand to her
trembling lips, cupping it with her nervous left hand. Her shoulders
were dejected. Milt pleaded, "Let's hike out. I don't mind decent honest
grease, but this place--look in at table! Dirty dishes---- And gin
bottles on the floor!"

"Desert her? When she needs me so?" Claire started forward, but Milt
caught her sleeve, and admired, "You were right! You've