"'Tis the way a man lives he must die."
"Yes," said Shea, thoughtfully, "thim that lives be the sword must go be the board."
When they had pumped on silently for awhile, Shea asked, "How did ye load thim, Burke?"
"Why—I—I suppose I lifted them aboard. I had no derrick."
"Did ye lift me, Burke?"
"I'm damned if I know, Shea," said Burke, staring ahead, for Kelly had moved. "Keep her goin'," he added, and then he bent over the prostrate foreman. He lifted Kelly's head, and the eyes opened. He raised the head a little higher, and Kelly saw the blood upon his beard, on his coat, on his hands.
"Are yez hurted, Kelly?" he asked.
"Hurted! Man, I'm dyin'. Can't you see me heart's blood ebbin' over me?" And then Burke, crossing himself, laid the wounded head gently down again.
By this time they were nearing their destination. Burke, seeing Lucien beyond human aid, took hold again and helped pump, hoping to reach Charlevoix in time to secure medical aid, or a priest at least, for Kelly.
When the hand-car stopped in front of the station at Charlevoix, the employees watching, and the prospective passengers waiting, for the express train gathered about the car.