“She’s my sister,” Bleatie said, “and I should stick up for her, but God knows she has her faults, and they’re a pretty important element in this whole mess. If you ask me, she’s given her husband a hell of a raw deal. She can’t be trusted around a man. She’s never happy unless she has half a dozen men on the string, playing one of them against the other. She’s married, but marriage doesn’t stop her a damn bit. She goes her own way, and does pretty much as she pleases.”

“They all do these days,” I said easily.

“You seem to be rushing to her defense a little too eagerly—considering that you’ve only known her a few minutes,” he said.

I kept quiet.

“You’re sure you’re not lying to me.”

“I’m not accustomed to lie to anyone,” I said, “and I don’t like to have people with broken noses accuse me of being a liar.”

He grinned then. I could see the cheek muscles twist and the eyes narrow. “Sort of taking an unfair advantage, is it?” he asked.

“Yes. You can’t hit a man with a busted nose.”

“I don’t know why not,” he said. “I wouldn’t hesitate.”

I looked into the cat-green eyes and said thoughtfully, “No, I don’t suppose you would.”

“If a man’s nose is broken, that makes him all the more vulnerable. When I fight, I don’t spar for points. I fight to smash the other man, and the harder I can smash him, the better I like it. And you’re a little shrimp to have such a game-cock disposition.”

He’d have liked me to make some comment then. I didn’t make any.

“So Sandra wants a divorce, does she?” he said after a moment.

“So I understand.”

“Well, there’s a hell of a lot to be said on Morgan’s side of this thing. Has that ever occurred to you?”

“I’m serving the papers,” I said. “He’ll have a chance to tell his side of it in court.”

“The hell he will!” Bleatie said impatiently. “How the devil could he come into court? He’s a fugitive from justice. Hell, they’d rip him wide open. What’s all the big rush about? Why doesn’t Sandra serve him by publication?”

“It would take too long,” I said, “and you can’t collect alimony on a service by publication.”

“She wants alimony?” he asked, then added quickly, “Thought you said you weren’t a lawyer.”

“I think you’ll have to ask her or her lawyer about the alimony,” I said. “After all, I’m only hired to serve the papers.”

“You have the papers there?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s see ’em.”