On the landing Ford clutched at his arm, and asked, in a hoarse whisper: “Ow long `fore she`s back?”“ `Bout a hour, I expect,” Simmons replied, having first of all re-peated the question in his own mind. And then he opened the parlor door.“Ah,” said Ford, looking about him, “you`ve bin pretty comf`table. Them chairs an` things”—jerking his pipe toward them—“was hers -—mine, that is to say, speaking straight, and man to man.” He sat down, puffing meditatively at his pipe, and presently: “Well,” he continued, “ `ere I am agin, oP Bob Ford dead an` done for—gawn down in the `Mooltan.` On`y I ain`t done for, see?”—and he pointed the stem of his pipe at Simmons`s waistcoat—“I ain`t done for, `cause why ? Cons`kence o` bein picked up by a ol` German sailin`-utch an` took to `Frisco `fore the mast. I`ve `ad a few years o` knockin` about since then, an` now”—looking hard at Simmons—“I`ve come back to see my wife.”“She—she don`t like smoke in `ere,” said Simmons, as it were, at random.Ford answeredNo, I bet she don`t,” Ford answered, taking his pipe from his mouth, and holding it low in his hand. “I know `Anner. `Ow d`you find `er? Do she make ye clean the winders?”“Well,” Simmons admitted, uneasily, “I—I do `elp `er sometimes, o` course.”“Ah! An` the knives too, I bet, an` the bloomin` kittles. I know. Wy”—he rose and bent to look behind Simmons`s head—“s`elp me, I b`lieve she cuts yer `air! Well, I`m damned! Jes` wot she would do, too.”He inspected the blushing Simmons from divers points of vantage. Then he lifted a leg of the trousers hanging behind the door. “I`d bet a trifle,” he said, “she made these `ere trucks. Nobody else `ud do `em like that. Damme—they`re wuss`n wot you`re got on.”The small devil began to have the argument all its own way. It this man took his wife back, perhaps he`d have to wear those trousers.“Ah!” Ford pursued, “she ain`t got no milder. An` my davy, wot a jore!”Simmons began to feel that this was no longer his business. Plainly, `Anner was this other man`s wife, and he was bound in honor to acknowledge the fact. The small devil put it to him as a matter of duty.
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