"Dead!" replied the man. "Killed in a minute, not an hour ago."
Eben felt sick. "How was it?" he asked.
"He was standing down here when the two o'clock freight came in, and just as it was slacking, that little two-year-old girl of Marvin's went toddling right on to the track before the engine. Jem saw her and sprang to save her, and he did, somehow, manage to throw her over on the other track, but the engine knocked him down and killed him instantly. He was stone dead when they took him up. Halloo, my boy, don't faint! What's the matter?"
"I don't know. It was so sudden," said Eben, recovering himself with a great effort. "Why, I rode over with him from Boonville this morning."
"Did you?" asked another bystander. "Was he quite sober then?"
"Yes, indeed; as sober and sensible as anybody. Oh, poor Jem! What will his poor mother do? Does she know about it?"
"Yes, before this time; Mr. Edwards, the minister, went over to tell her the news, but they can't take the body home till they get a coffin. They have telegraphed for one, and it will be here by the five fifteen."
"After all," said some one else, "if he was to die, it was better so than in delirium tremens or in some drunken brawl, as seemed most likely to happen. He died in a good cause, and there is no telling what thoughts passed through his mind in that minute."
"'Between the saddle and the ground,
If mercy's sought, mercy's found.'"
"But it is a dreadful thing to live the life he did, and then be called away so sudden."