"Kate,—you will see her," he whispered. "Tell her——" but the sentence was never finished.
Deftly and gently as a woman Darrell did the little which remained to be done for his young friend, closing the eyes in which the love-light kindled by his dying words still lingered, smoothing the dishevelled golden hair, wondering within himself at his own unwonted tenderness.
"An awful pity for a bright young life to go out like that!" said a voice at his side, and, turning, he saw Parkinson.
"How did it happen?" the latter inquired, recognizing Darrell for the first time in the dim light.
Briefly Darrell gave the main facts as he had witnessed them, saying nothing, however, of his having seen the face of the murderer.
"Too bad!" said Parkinson. "He ought never to have made a bluff of that sort; there were too many odds against him."
"He was impulsive and acted on the spur of the moment," Darrell replied; adding, in lower tones, "the mistake was in giving one so young and inexperienced a commission involving so much responsibility and danger."
"You knew of the money, then? Yes, that was bad business for him, poor fellow! I wonder, by the way, if it was all taken."
At Darrell's suggestion a thorough search was made, which resulted in the finding of a package containing fifteen thousand dollars which the thief in his haste had evidently overlooked. This, it was agreed, should be placed in Darrell's keeping until the arrival of the train at Ophir.