Though no one spoke, there passed a fear
That Tom must die.
He rallied when the sun was low,
And spoke; I thought the words were strange;
“It’s almost night, and I must go
Across the Range.”
“What, Tom?” He smiled and nodded: “Yes,
They’ve struck it rich there, Jim, you know,
The parson told us; you’ll come soon;
Now Tom must go.”