Uncle Denny was waiting for him. It was nearly midnight. He had kindled a fire in the grate and was brewing some tea. "Mrs. Flynn would have it you'd fallen off a peak but I got her to bed. Have some tea, me boy."
Uncle Denny's voice was cheerful, though his eyes were red. He watched Jim anxiously.
"You should have gone to bed yourself, Uncle Denny. I have a letter to write, then I'm going to turn in."
Uncle Denny's hand shook as he poured the tea. "I had to see you, Still, because I promised Pen I'd go back over there tonight and tell her what your decision was."
Jim caught up his hat. "I'll go!"
But Uncle Denny laid his hand on Jim's arm. "No, me boy. Pen's had all she can stand tonight. I'll take her your word. What shall it be, Still?"
Jim brought his fist down on the table. "Tell her, with her help, I'll keep up the fight!"
Uncle Denny's blue eyes blazed. "I'm prouder of the two of you than I am of me Irish name," he said, and, seizing his hat, he hurried out.
While he was gone Jim wrote this note: