"You working? Say, that's a darned shame! Don't Bud send you any money?"
"He left some," said Marie frankly. "But I'm keeping that for baby, when
he grows up and needs it. He don't send any."
"Well, say! As long as he's in the State, you can make him dig up. For
the kid's support, anyway. Why don't you get after him?"
Marie looked down over the golf links, as the car swung around the long
curve at the head of the slope. "I don't know where he is," she said
tonelessly. "Where did you see him, Joe?"
Joe's hesitation lasted but long enough for him to give his mustache end
a twist. Marie certainly seemed to be well "over it." There could be no
harm in telling.
"Well, when I saw him he was at Alpine; that's a little burg up in the
edge of the mountains, on the W. P. He didn't look none too prosperous,
at that. But he had money--he was playing poker and that kind of thing.
And he was drunk as a boiled owl, and getting drunker just as fast as
he knew how. Seemed to be kind of a stranger there; at least he didn't
throw in with the bunch like a native would. But that was more than a
month ago, Marie. He might not be there now. I could write up and find
out for you."
Marie settled back against the cushions as though she had already
dismissed the subject from her mind.
"Oh, don't bother about it, Joe. I don't suppose he's got any money,
anyway. Let's forget him."
"You said it, Marie. Stacked up to me like a guy that's got just enough
dough for a good big souse. He ain't hard to forget--is he, girlie?"
Marie laughed assentingly. And if she did not quite attain her old
bubbling spirits during the evening, at least she sent Joe back to San
Francisco feeling very well satisfied with himself. He must have been
satisfied with himself. He must have been satisfied with his wooing
also, because he strolled into a jewelry store the next morning and
priced several rings which he judged would be perfectly suitable for
engagement rings. He might have gone so far as to buy one, if he had
been sure of the size and of Marie's preference in stones. Since he
lacked detailed information, he decided to wait, but he intimated
plainly to the clerk that he would return in a few days.
It was just as well that he did decide to wait, for when he tried again
to see Marie he failed altogether. Marie had left town. Her mother, with
an acrid tone of resentment, declared that she did not know any
more than the man in the moon where Marie had gone, but that she
"suspicioned" that some fool had told Marie where Bud was, and that
Marie had gone traipsing after him. She had taken the baby along, which
was another piece of foolishness which her mother would never have
permitted had she been at home when Marie left.