Put her in the hacienda to
hold possession afore the news came out."
"Impossible!" said Tucker, rising hastily. "It don't belong--that is--"
he hesitated.
"Yer thinking the creditors 'll get it, mebbe," returned Patterson,
gazing at the floor. "Not as long as she's in it; no sir! Whether
it's really hers, or she's only keeping house for Poindexter, she's a
fixture, you bet. They're a team when they pull together, they are!"
The smile slowly faded from Tucker's face, that now looked quite rigid
in the moonlight. He put down his glass and walked to the window as
Patterson gloomily continued, "But that's nothing to you. You've got
ahead of 'em both, and had your revenge by going off with the
gal. That's what I said all along. When folks--especially women
folks--wondered how you could leave a woman like your wife, and go off
with a scallawag like that gal, I allers said they'd find out there was
a reason. And when your wife came flaunting down here with Poindexter
before she'd quite got quit of you, I reckon they began to see the whole
little game.
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