[Dark Saint Alaick]

"And that were answer enough to hurt his feelin's. What you want to know where Matt
Pike's gone for, Marann?"

"I didn't care about knowing, ma, but I didn't like the way Sim talked."

"Look here, Marann. Look straight at me. You'll be mighty fur off your feet if you let
Matt Pike put things in your head that hain't no business a-bein' there, and special if you
find yourself a-wantin' to know where he's a-perambulatin' in his everlastin' meanderin's.
Not a cent has he paid for his board, and which your pa say he have a' understandin' with
him about allowin' for his absentees, which is all right enough, but which it's now goin'
on to three mont's, and what is comin' to us I need and I want. He ought, your pa ought to
let me bargain with Matt Pike, because he know he don't understan' figgers like Matt
Pike. He don't know exactly what the bargain were; for I've asked him, and he always
begins with a multiplyin' of words and never answers me."

On his next return from his travels Mr. Pike noticed a coldness in Mrs. Fluker's manner,
and this enhanced his praise of the house. The last week of the third month came. Mr.
Pike was often noticed, before and after meals, standing at the desk in the hotel office
(called in those times the bar-room) engaged in making calculations. The day before the
contract expired Mrs. Fluker, who had not indulged herself with a single holiday since
they had been in town, left Marann in charge of the house, and rode forth, spending part
of the day with Mrs. Marchman, Sim's mother. All were glad to see her, of course, and
she returned smartly, freshened by the visit. That night she had a talk with Marann, and
oh, how Marann did cry!

The very last day came. Like insurance policies, the contract was to expire at a certain
hour. Sim Marchman came just before dinner, to which he was sent for by Mrs. Fluker,
who had seen him as he rode into town.