Ralston bowed gravely as Dora entered—pale, her eyes showing traces of recent tears. Susie was absent, having no heart for food or company, and preferring to sit beside her mother for the brief time which remained to her. Even Meeteetse Ed shared in the general depression, and therefore it was in no spirit of flippancy that he observed as he replaced his cup violently in its saucer:
“Gosh A’mighty, Ling, you must have biled a gum-boot in this here tea!”
Dora, who had drank nearly half of hers, was unable to account for the peculiar tang which destroyed its flavor, and Ralston eyed the contents of his cup doubtfully after each swallow.
“Like as not the water’s gittin’ alkali,” ventured Old Man Rulison.
“Alkali nothin’. That’s gum-boot, or else a plug of Battle Ax fell in.”
Ling bore Meeteetse’s criticisms with surprising equanimity.
A moment later the lights blurred for Dora.
“I—I feel faint,” she whispered, striving to rise.
Ralston, who had already noted her increasing pallor, hastened around the table and helped her into the air. Ling’s immobile face was a study as he saw them leave the room together, but satisfaction was the most marked of its many expressions. He watched them from the pantry window as they walked to the cottonwood log which served as a garden-seat for all.
“I wonder if it was that queer tea?”