"Ah, then," said I, "I will go with this one; for I could not stand the loneliness here with you flying away from me."
"No?" he said, half inquiringly; and then he surveyed me, interested, and said again, "No, not so easily as I can stand your departure—I suppose." But he looked away as he spoke.
My belongings lay just in the doorway, ready to hand, and these he lifted, boarding the train with me and finding me a seat. This was no sooner done than the conductor outside intoned his "All aboard!"
Apache Kid snatched my hand.
"Well," said he, "in the language of the country—so-long!"
I had no word to say. I took his hand; but he gave me only the fingers of his, and, whirling about, lurched down the aisle of the car, for the train had already started, and the door swung behind him. I tried to raise the window beside me, but it was fast, and by the time I had the next one raised and looked out, all the depot buildings were in the haze of my tears, in the midst of which I saw half a dozen blurred, waving hands, and though I waved into that haze I do not know whether Apache Kid was one of those who stood there or not.
So the last I really saw of Apache Kid was his lurching shoulder as he passed out of the swinging car.
CHAPTER XXX
And Last
