Part 9 (1/2)

”Perhaps,” said Crane, a little preoccupied in manner, ”or I will send a search party myself. There's no reason you boys should go.”

This was a real relief, for though more than willing, the two men were far from anxious to undertake the gruesome errand.

”And now,” their host went on, ”if you agree, I'll send for Mrs. Crane.

At first, I thought I'd rather tell her the news when we were by ourselves,--but, I know there are questions she will want to ask you, things that I might not think of,--and I know you'll be willing to answer her.”

All unconscious of the scene awaiting her, Mrs. Crane came into the room.

A bewildered look on her sweet, placid face showed her inability to grasp the situation quickly.

Then, ”Why, boys,” she cried, ”when did you come home? Where's Peter?”

To the others' relief Benjamin Crane told his wife of their mutual loss.

Very gently he told her, very lovingly he held her hand and comforted her crushed and breaking heart. Shelby and Blair instinctively turned aside from the pitiful scene and waited to be again addressed.

At length Mrs. Crane turned her tear-stained face to them. Not so calm as her husband, she begged for details, then she wept and sobbed so hysterically she could scarcely hear them. Her thoughts flew back to the years when Peter was a lad, a child, a baby,--and her talk of him became almost incoherent.

”There, there, dear,” Benjamin Crane said, smoothing her hair, ”try to be quieter,--you will make yourself ill. Perhaps, boys, you'd better go now, and come round again to-morrow evening.”

”No, no!” cried Mrs. Crane; ”stay longer,--tell me more. Tell me everything he said or did,--all the time you were gone. Did he know he was going to die?”

”Oh, no, Mrs. Crane,” Shelby a.s.sured her. ”It was an accident, you see.

The storm was beyond anything you can imagine. The wind was not only icy and cutting, but of a sharp viciousness that made it impossible to hear or to see. Almost impossible to walk. We merely struggled blindly against it,--_against_ it, you understand, so that if Peter, who was behind, had called out, we could not have heard him.”

”Why was he last?” demanded Mrs. Crane.

”It happened so,” replied Shelby. ”I've tried hard to think if we were to blame for that,--but I cannot see that we were. Whenever we walked single file, we fell into line in any order. The subject never was mentioned or thought of. And so, that day, Peter was the last one. If Blair or I had fallen or been overcome by the cold,--which is what we know must have happened,--we would have been seen by Peter, of course.

But when he gave out, no one looked backward.”

”You had been trudging like that long?” asked Crane.

”Oh, yes, for hours. We were all pretty nearly all in, but Joshua wouldn't let us stop,--dared not, in fact, for he knew the danger of that storm far better than we did. No, Mr. Crane, on the part of Blair and myself, I want to say that we had no thought other than our individual progress. That was all any one could think of, as Peter himself would say if he could speak.”

”He has spoken,” returned Crane, quietly; ”he did say it.”

”What!” exclaimed the two men together.

”Yes,” the older man went on; ”I think I will tell you, though I had half decided not to: What do you say, Mother?”

Mrs. Crane looked up. Her expression of dumb despair gave way to a look of quiet peace as she said, slowly: ”Yes, dear, tell them. But let it be held confidential.”

”You'll promise that, boys, won't you?” asked Crane, and only half understanding Blair and Shelby promised.

”Well, it was this way,” Crane began, ”You know we couldn't get letters from you chaps all the time you were away,--except the few early ones.

Of course we knew that before you went, but we didn't realize how lonely we would be without Peter Boots. Whenever he has been away before we could hear from him frequently. Julie is a dear girl, but she is a busy little b.u.t.terfly, and many a time my wife and I are alone of an evening.”

”And we're happy enough together,” Mrs. Crane put in, gently; ”but being alone, we naturally talked a great deal of Peter, and--and we couldn't help remembering the Gypsy's warning.”

”Oh, I'd forgotten that!” exclaimed Blair. ”What was it, now?”