“I think he may come in,” he said. “But make no noise! Don't excite her!”
Apple Cheek, who was Apple Cheek no longer with her face hollowed and white, was lying in the bed. Her eyes were big and bright, and the ghost of a smile parted her wan lips.
“I'm so happy!” she whispered, voice hardly above a breath. Then with weak hands she drew me down to her. “I've prayed and prayed, and I knew it would come right,” she murmured.
Then Anne, who had followed me to the bedside, drew away the coverings. It was like a revelation, for I had been told no word of it, nor so much as dreamed of such sweet chances. The dear surprise of it was in one sense like a blow, and I staggered on my feet as that day's threats had owned no power to make me. There, with little face upturned and sleeping, was a babe!—our babe!
—Apple Cheek's and mine!—our baby girl that had been born to us while its father lay in jail on a charge of murder! While I looked, it opened its eyes; and then a wailing, quivering cry went up that swept across my soul like a tune of music.
CHAPTER XII—DARBY THE GOPHER
FOXY BILLY CASSIDY made but slow work of obtaining those papers asked for to overthrow our enemy, the Chief. He copied reams upon reams of contracts and vouchers and accounts, but those to wholly match the crushing purposes of Big Kennedy were not within his touch. The documents which would set the public ablaze were held in a safe, of which none save one most trusted by the Chief, and deep in both his plans and their perils, possessed the secret.
“That's how the game stands,” explained Big Kennedy. “Foxy Billy's up ag'inst it. The cards we need are in th' safe, an' Billy aint got th' combination, d'ye see.”