As he advanced to greet her, it was evident that his
military title was not one of the mere fanciful sobriquets of the
locality. In his erect figure and the disciplined composure of limb and
attitude there were still traces of the refined academic rigors of West
Point. The pliant adaptability of Western civilization, which enabled
him, three years before, to leave the army and transfer his executive
ability to the more profitable profession of the law, had loosed sash
and shoulder-strap, but had not entirely removed the restraint of the
one, nor the bearing of the other.
"Spencer is in Sacramento," began Mrs. Tucker in languid explanation,
after the first greetings were over.
"I knew he was not here," replied Captain Poindexter gently, as he drew
the proffered chair towards her, "but this is business that concerns
you both." He stopped and glanced upwards at the picture. "I suppose
you know nothing of his business? Of course not," he added
reassuringly, "nothing, absolutely nothing, certainly." He said this so
kindly, and yet so positively, as if to promptly dispose of that
question before going further, that she assented mechanically.
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