“Yes, called after me, he is! Goodness! don’t I wish he’d hurry up and get here, now–with the doctor?”
It was a hollow groan. Pain was, at length, getting the better of that capricious spirit.
“Can’t–can’t I do–anything–to make you more comfortable?” Pemrose asked.
Then suddenly remembering that it was he who was making the Thunder Bird’s fortune, as impulsively as the little cedar tree leaned to the swollen rill, she bent and kissed the cold sweat of pain from his forehead.
“That–that’s worth coming East for,” murmured the man, his own eyes growing wet. “Little niece! don’t you want to–follow–suit? I suppose, a year from now, your Thunder Bird will fly.”
CHAPTER XXII
A June Woman
“I feel as if I was in the pictures!”
“Oh! I feel as if I was in the pictures.”
It was the wild thought in each girl’s breast, as minutes went on.