Perhaps he won't be home
until late tonight...

or he may even camp in the hills
and come in tomorrow after you're gone.

He'll be so sorry to have missed
one of our very few occasional visitors.

I guess I'll go and look after Johnny.
Mrs. Lowe, you're a liar.
- And an almighty poor liar.
- I don't understand you.

These horses haven't been shod
in a couple of months.

It's a cinch that axe hasn't had
an edge on it in two months.

And your tea can, a five-pound tea can
in your house is empty.

Your husband's been gone a long time.
Now, look here, Mr. Lane,
I don't think you have any right to...

I'm not talking about rights.
I'm talking about lies.

Why did you lie to me, Mrs. Lowe?
Were you afraid that maybe you wouldn't be
safe here with me with your husband away?

- That it?
- That's partly it.

Women always figure every man
comes along wants them.

- Mr. Lane.
- Yes, ma'am?

You're right. I was lying.
My husband is overdue.

He should have been home long ago.
Figure Apaches killed him?
Of course not.
There are a hundred possible explanations.

Indians are one of them.