Time was but of little moment now; his theories could wait until he had seen Agnes Jierdon, until he had talked to her and questioned her regarding the statements made to Medaine Robinette.
Besides, Ba'tiste already was in the buggy, striving to cover his feelings by a stream of badinage directed toward Golemar, the wolf-dog, and waiting for Houston to take his place beside him.

A moment more and they were driving away, Ba'tiste humped over the reins as usual, Houston striving to put from him the agony of the new accusation.
Finally, the trapper cocked his head and spoke, rather to the horse and Golemar than to Houston.
"Eet is the one, big lie!" "Yes, but there's not much way of proving it, Ba'tiste." "Proof?
Bah! And does Ba'teese need proof?
Ba'teese no like this woman, Jierdon.

She say Ba'teese burn the mill." "I didn't know you heard that." "She have a bad mouth.

She have a bad eye.

She have a bad tongue.
Yes, _oui_! She have a bad tongue!" "Let's wait, Ba'tiste.