Jerry hurried out with the lantern and hooked up Nip to the cart. They wrapped the babies in blankets and plunged out silently into the bitter night.
From Lizzie May's kitchen window a light was streaming. Two or three lanterns moved about in the barnyard and dark figures and shadows moved with them. There were sounds of horses being put to.
When they opened the kitchen door, she rushed to Judith and fell shuddering into her arms.
"Oh, Judy," she cried, clutching her sister hysterically. "What do you s'pose has happened to him? Judy, don't tell me he's been hurt. Don't say he's got hurt, Judy."
Jerry went out with the lantern. A little later he came in again and nodded silently to Judith in sign that he was leaving. His face was set and serious. He was going with the searching party to look for Dan. A few moments later the two women heard the wagon creak past and rumble away into the distance.
The terrible minutes of suspense dragged by like hours. Outside the night was cold, black, and silent, inscrutably hiding its secret. Inside, Judith, having put her children to bed, kept the fire burning and tried to deaden for Lizzie May the torture of waiting.
It was heartrending to be with her, to try to calm her with false hopes and lying assurances. Judith under the strain began to catch the infection of hysteria. She found herself trembling all over and could hardly keep back her tears. She could hardly believe that only twenty-four hours before she and Jerry had themselves felt calamity stricken. In the face of this, their misfortune seemed less than nothing.
The minutes dragged by. Outside the night remained cold, black and silent, inscrutably hiding its secret.
It was growing daylight when at last they heard the creak of wheels. For hours they had been listening for this sound with mingled dread and eagerness. Now it came all unexpectedly like a sudden blow, like a stab. Lizzie May heard it first and rushed to the door. Judith followed her.
The wagon was coming at a rapid trot. It creaked loudly in the intense cold. Jerry was driving. Judith knew him at once by his red muffler. And there were men sitting on the sides of the wagon box. On the seat beside Jerry was a figure that Judith did not at once recognize. For one foolishly glad moment she thought it was Dan. She looked again and saw that it was Jake Tobey, the coroner. Her heart contracted with a sharp pain and involuntarily her eyes moved to the wagon box. In the middle of the wagon box was a long, motionless object covered by a horse blanket.