“Truth’s truth, and I’ll stand by it, and—”
The old man stopped, for there came to them now, clearly, the sound of sleigh-bells. They all stood still for an instant, silent and attentive, then Aunt Kate moved toward the door.
“Cassy’s come,” she said. “Cassy and George’s boy’ve come.”
Another instant and the door was opened on the beautiful, white, sparkling world, and the low sleigh, with its great, warm, buffalo robes, in which the small figures of a woman and a child were almost lost, stopped at the door. Two whimsical but tired eyes looked over a rim of fur at the old woman in the doorway, then Cassy’s voice rang out:
“Hello! that’s Aunt Kate, I know! Well, here we are, and here’s my boy. Jump, George!”
A moment later and the gaunt old woman folded both mother and son in her arms and drew them into the room. The door was shut, and they all faced one another.
The old man and Black Andy did not move, but stood staring at the trim figure in black, with the plain face, large mouth, and tousled red hair, and the dreamy-eyed, handsome little boy beside her.
Black Andy stood behind the stove, looking over at the new-comers with quizzical, almost furtive eyes, and his father remained for a moment with mouth open, gazing at his dead son’s wife and child, as though not quite comprehending the scene. The sight of the boy had brought back, in some strange, embarrassing way, a vision of thirty years before, when George was a little boy in buckskin pants and jacket, and was beginning to ride the prairie with him. This boy was like George, yet not like him. The face was George’s, the sensuous, luxurious mouth; but the eyes were not those of a Baragar, nor yet those of Aunt Kate’s family; and they were not wholly like the mother’s. They were full and brimming, while hers were small and whimsical; yet they had her quick, humorous flashes and her quaintness.
“Have I changed so much? Have you forgotten me?” Cassy asked, looking the old man in the eyes. “You look as strong as a bull.” She held out her hand to him and laughed.
“Hope I see you well,” said Abel Baragar, mechanically, as he took the hand and shook it awkwardly.