Part 6 (1/2)

During this flow of time Big Medicine had feasted his eyes on the bright curls and brighter eyes of Carrie Golding, till his heart had become tender and happy as a child's. They rarely conversed more than for him to say, ”Miss Carrie, look there,” or for her to call out, ”Please, Mr.

Cook, hand me down this bolt of muslin.” But Big Medicine was content.

It was June the 8th, about ten o'clock in the morning, and Big Medicine was slowly making his way from his comfortable bachelor's cabin to the corner brick. A peculiar smile was on his face, his heart was fluttering strangely, and all on account of a little circ.u.mstance of the preceding day, now fresh in his memory. Great boy that he was, he was poring ever a single sweet smile Carrie Golding had given him!

The mail hack stood at the post-office door, whence Mr. Golding was coming with a letter in his hand. Big Medicine stopped and looked up at the window. There stood Carrie. She was looking hopefully toward her father. Big Medicine smiled and murmured:

”Ther's wher I fust seed the gal--bless her sweet soul!” There was a whole world of sincere happiness in the tones of his voice.

Mr. Golding pa.s.sed him hastily, his green spectacles on his nose, and a great excitement flas.h.i.+ng from his face. Big Medicine gazed wonderingly after his partner till he saw him run up stairs to Carrie's room. Then he thought he heard Carrie cry out joyfully, but it may have been the wind.

When an hour had pa.s.sed Mr. Golding and Carrie came down dressed for travelling. How strangely, wondrously beautiful the girl now looked! Mr.

Golding was as nervous as an old woman. He rubbed his thin white hands together rapidly and said:

”Mr. Cook, I have glorious news this morning!”

”And what mought it be?” asked Big Medicine, as a damp chilliness crept over him, and his face grew pinched and almost as white as his s.h.i.+rt bosom.

”Krofton & Kelly, the bankers, have resumed payment, and I'll get all my money! It _is_ glorious news, is it not, my friend?”

Big Medicine was silent. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry and powerless. A mist drifted across his eyes. He hardly realized where he was or what was said, but he knew all.

”I have concluded to give you this house and all my interest in this store. You must not refuse. I haven't time to make the transfer now, but I'll not neglect it. Carrie and I must hasten at once to Cincinnati. The hack is waiting; so good bye, my dear friend, G.o.d bless you!” Mr.

Golding wrung his partner's cold, limp hand, without noticing how fearfully haggard that Roman face had suddenly grown.

”Good bye, Mr. Cook,” said Carrie in her sweet, sincere way. ”I'm real sorry to leave you and the dear old house--but--but--good bye, Mr. Cook.

Come to see us in Cincinnati. Good bye.” She gave him her hand also.

He smiled a wan, flickering smile, like the last flare of a fire whose fuel is exhausted. Carrie's woman's heart sank under that look, though she knew not wherefore.

The hack pa.s.sed round the curve of the road.

They were gone!

Big Medicine stood alone in the door of the corner brick. He looked back over his shoulders at the well filled shelves and muttered:

”She ain't here, and what do I want of the derned old store?”

The wind rustled the elm leaves and tossed the brown locks of the man over his great forehead; the blue birds sang on the roof; the dust rose in little columns along the street; and, high over head, in the yellow mist of the fine June weather, sailed a great blue heron, going to the lakes. Big Medicine felt like one deserted in the wilderness. He stood there a while, then closed and locked the door and went into the woods.

A month pa.s.sed before he returned. Jimtown wondered and wondered. But when he did return his neighbors could not get a word out of him. He was silent, moody, listless. Where had he been? Only hunting for Mr. Golding and Carrie. He found them, after a long search, in a splendid residence on the heights just out of Cincinnati. Mr. Golding greeted him cordially, but somehow Big Medicine felt as though he were shaking hands with some one over an insurmountable barrier. That was not the Mr.

Golding he had known.

”Carrie is out in the garden. She will be glad to see you. Go along the hall there. You will see the gate.”

Mr. Golding waved his hand after the manner of a very rich man, and a patronizing tone would creep into his voice. Somehow Big Medicine looked terribly uncouth.

With a hesitating step and a heart full of unreal sensations, Big Medicine opened the little gate and strode into the flower garden.

Suddenly a vision, such as his fancy had never pictured, burst on his dazzled eyes. Flowers and vines and statues and fountains; on every hand rich colors; perfumes so mixed and intensified that his senses almost gave way; long winding walks; fairy-like bowers and music. He paused and listened. A heavy voice, rich and manly, singing a ballad--some popular love song--to the sweet accompaniment of a violin, and blended through it all, like a silvery thread, the low sweet voice of Carrie Golding.