N-now, I 'm a plain s-s-sorter man, an' I m-make bold ter ask ye a m-mighty plain sorter qu-question--is that there M-M-Mercedes on the squar ?" He stood there motionless before her, a vast, uncertain bulk in the dim light, but he was breathing hard, and the deep earnestness of his voice had impressed her strongly.
"Why do you ask me that ?" she questioned, for the moment uncertain how to answer him.

"I scarcely know her; I know almost nothing regarding her life." "Y-you, you are a w-woman, Miss," he insisted, doggedly, "an', I t-take it, a woman who will u-understand such th-th-things.

T-tell me, is she on the squar ?" "Yes," she responded, warmly.

"She has not had much chance, I think, and may have made a mistake, perhaps many of them, but I believe she 's on the square." "Did--did sh-she come out t-to our m-m-mine spying for Farnham ?" "Really, I don't know." His grave face darkened anxiously; she could perceive the change even in that shadow, and distinguish the sharp grind of his teeth.
"Damn him," he muttered, his voice bitter with hate.

"It w-would be l-l-like one of his l-low-lived tricks.