He was ladling water from pail to washpan, solemn of face, fixed and attentive as if he must measure an exact quantity before putting a finger in it. A dipperful more or less might throw it off balance with shocking result. He washed with a dry, rasping sound, as if he had sandpaper on his hands. While he stood drying himself on the clean towel Edith handed him, Mrs. Peck gave him an edgeways look, as if sizing him up for some question she wanted to ask, but was not certain whether the time had arrived for its friendly reception. She chanced it, win or lose.
"Did you see that long-hungry, step-on-his-feet-and-fall-down man of mine over there around Lost Horse Canyon?"
"Um-m-m," said Elmer, giving the grunt an inflection of affirmation.
"You didn't give him any money, did you, Elmer?" Anxiously, wetting her dry lips with her tongue, which she lopped around with a little more effectiveness than elegance.
"Did he have any comin'?" Elmer inquired, pausing in his wiping to fix her with stern eyes.
"You know he never."
"He got all that was due him, then."
"What was he doin'?"
"Readin' a book Riley lent him."
"You don't tell me?" Hopefully, a little proudly. "It must 'a' been a law book, Riley don't read anything but law books. Did you see what it was about, Elmer?"
"Divorces," said Elmer shortly.
But that was plenty. Mrs. Peck rose slowly, as
