Finding it, he reached into another pocket for the wherewithal to fill it.
"Have you suggested to her that she's flying in the face of Providence ?" I asked.
Lute shook his head.

"No," he admitted, "I ain't.

Got any tobacco about you?
Dorindy hove my plug away yesterday.

I left it back of the clock and she found it and was mad--dustin' again, of course." He took the pouch I handed him, filled his pipe and absently put the pouch in his pocket.
"Got a match ?" he asked.

"Thanks.