CHAPTER XIX
The Day of Reckoning
The sun was high next day when the door of Pat Bylow's abode was opened, and a man entered. The scene that met his eyes is better undescribed, but to him it gave no shock. He came expecting to see it. In his hand he carried a tin pail. There were men and women lying about the floor. He stepped over them toward a tall form in soiled black clothes and knelt beside it. Pouring some water on a cloth he laid it on the pale forehead. The prostrate man opened his eyes and groaned.
"Mr. Hartigan," said the other. "It's me. It's Charlie Bylow. Won't you be after having a drink of water?"
Hartigan raised himself on his elbow, peered out of his bloodshot eyes, and drank eagerly. The cup was three times emptied.
"You better come over to my shanty and go to bed," said Charlie seriously. The Preacher groaned:
"Oh! God what have I done? What have I done?" He clutched his throbbing brow with both hands, as he rose and shakily followed Charlie.
"Oh! fool that I am. Oh, God! Ruined. All is ruined. I wish I were dead!" he exclaimed. "Oh! God forgive me."
As they passed the fence where Blazing Star had been hitched, Hartigan stopped and stared. Charlie said:
"It's all right, Mr. Hartigan, I took care of him. He is in the stable."