Part 40 (2/2)
”Yes,” said Stanton. ”I'm a baby. I would like to help her, but I cannot.”
”Well, my boy, she needs no help that either you or I can give.”
Perault, the half-breed, and Crawley sat in silence at the other side of the fire. Shock remained near, the girl, wondering at her marvellous self-control. Verse after verse she sang in a voice low, but clear and sweet. As the refrain occurred again and again,
”O sweet and blessed country, the home of G.o.d's elect, O sweet and blessed country that eager hearts expect, Jesus, in mercy bring us to that dear land of rest,”
the only change was that the song rose a little clearer and fuller and with deeper tone.
After she had finished the camp lay in perfect silence.
”Are you asleep, father, dear?” his daughter said at length, but there was no reply. She touched his hands and his face.
”Father!” she cried in a voice of awe and fear, but still there was no reply.
The doctor came hastily into the light, looked into the old man's face, and said: ”He is gone.”
With a long, low, wailing cry the girl laid herself upon the ground by her father's side and put her arms around him. They all gathered about the couch, with the doctor and Shock standing nearest.
”Poor child!” said the doctor softly. ”This is a sad night for her.”
”Yes,” said Shock, in a voice quiet and steady. ”For her the night is sad, but for him the day has dawned and there shall be night no more.”
There, in that wide valley where the yellow pine needles lie deep and where morning and evening the mingling lights fall softly through the overarching boughs, they laid the Old Prospector to rest under the pines and the stars that had been his companions for so long.
XV
EJECTED AND REJECTED
In the main room of the Old Prospector's house some ten or twelve stern-faced men had gathered. The easy, careless manner that was characteristic of the ranchers and cowboys of the district had given place to an air of stern and serious determination. It was evident that they had gathered for some purpose of more than ordinary moment. By common consent Sinclair, a shrewd and fair-minded Scotch rancher who possessed the complete confidence of every man in the company, both for his integrity and his intelligence, was in the chair.
”Where is Mr. Macgregor?” he enquired.
”Gone to the Fort,” answered The Kid. ”He is on duty there to-morrow.
He wished me to say, however, that he has no desire to push this matter, as far as he is personally concerned, but that if the committee thinks the public good demands his presence and his testimony he will appear on Monday.”
”He ought to be here,” said Sinclair, and his tone almost conveyed a reproof.
”He'll come if he's wanted, I guess,” drawled out Ike, quick to take his friend's part.
”Well, then let us proceed. Let us get the facts first,” said Sinclair.
”Stanton, we would like to hear what you have to say.”
”Well,” said The Kid, ”there is not much that I have to tell, but I shall begin at the beginning and give you all I know.” Stanton's air of boyish carelessness had quite disappeared, his voice took a deeper tone than usual, his manner was grave and stern.
<script>