"Sure, the good man's gone, Hal."
"Dead?" whispered the boy. "John McCloud?"
He went to the stool by the fire and sat down for a moment, and Mike followed him and put his hand on his shoulder. He knew as well as any one the relations of the two men and understood them. It was a great blow to Hal. He ought reasonably to have anticipated such an event, but his thought had been busy with his own affairs and John McCloud as he was related to them. He had thought that he would have to meet the preacher and face his inquisition, and it had been some consolation to him that he could do so. He could tell the truth and it would be something to have earned the other's "Well done, my son; well done." Briefly and gently Mike told the boy what there was to tell, and how Wah-na-gi had never quite recovered from the shock of that awful night with its double horror.
"Sure, you're a God-send to us," he added. "My, my, my, won't their eyes pop out at the sight of you? You're pretty well liked around here, son, and say, you're just in time. The boys are goin' to have a Christmas-tree fer Wah-na-gi."
"A Christmas-tree, eh?" and the reaction came. The warmth of the room, the cheer of the blaze, the relaxation following on the physical strain, upon the cold and privation, the familiar objects about him with their associations, the sudden sense of a great loss, and the eternal mystery of death, the sound of a kindly voice, the homely joys conjured up by the words "Christmas-tree," all coming together overpowered him, and he bowed his head and turned away, speechless, and Mike looked away too, that he might not see the other's tears. It was the first emotion Hal had allowed himself to feel for a long time. He had bathed his soul in a hardening solution of indifference; otherwise existence would have been unendurable. Now when the assumption fell away, he felt uncommonly weak. After a moment's struggle the boy cleared his throat and said:
"Mike, I'm pretty glad to get back. I didn't know it would hit me so hard. I don't want to get foolish and play the baby. I'll tell you what," and his eyes began to shine and the old smile to come back to his face; "hide me some place, get 'em all together, then make a joke of it, then bring me out, and there you are, eh?"
Mike chuckled in anticipation of the surprise and joy of Wah-na-gi and the boys.
"Great!" hesaid. "I'll put you in this closet here; then I'll lead up to it with a few simple words; then I'll bring you out, and take you off the tree as a Christmas present for Wah-na-gi."
"No; don't do that, Mike. You don't understand. Don't single Wah-na-gi out—just let it all come naturally, you know——"
"Say, young feller; who's doin'this? I ain't ever been accused of lettin' anybody else write my speeches fer me."