That's what I said all along.

When folks--especially women folks--wondered how you could leave a woman like your wife, and go off with a scallawag like that gal, I allers said they'd find out there was a reason.

And when your wife came flaunting down here with Poindexter before she'd quite got quit of you, I reckon they began to see the whole little game.

No sir! I knew it wasn't on account of the gal! Why, when you came here to-night and told me quite nat'ral-like and easy how she went off in the ship, and then calmly ate your pie and drank your whiskey after it, I knew you didn't care for her.

There's my hand, Spence; you're a trump, even if you are a little looney, eh?
Why, what's up ?" Shallow and selfish as Tucker was, Patterson's words seemed like a revelation that shocked him as profoundly as it might have shocked a nobler nature.