AND so I came to the day that was sacred to Joey!
I began it by ploughing in the field back of the cabin. I went not near the shop. I did not venture into the cabin for lunch at noon. I had made up my mind to work doggedly till sundown and then go to the village inn for supper, and later join Father O’Shan at Captain Grif’s. Someway it comforted me to think of the evening; of the snug little nook beneath the eaves; and of the welcome that awaited me there. I saw Wanza’s face, in fancy—solicitous, pleased; I saw her figure there in the centre of the room, clasped by the yellow light of the swinging lamp, her hair gilded by its rays, on her cheek an eager flush. Kind heart! Dear, helpful girl! Cheerful, buoyant, valiant little wander-friend!
The sun for a June sun was unduly fervid, so that by four o’clock I was weary and dripping with perspiration, and longing for a dip in the river. I rested, and leaning on my plough, looked away through the cedars and cottonwoods to the green of the river flashing in the sunlight. I heard the rattle of the stage on the road, and when I was certain it had passed I went to the cabin and put on my bathing suit. I went in at the back door of the cabin, and out at the front, passed through the yew grove, crossed the bridge to the shop, and so gained the river bank and my favorite swimming hole beneath the cedar trees.
The spreading trees threw a deep shade over the pool. It was almost twilight beneath their network of branches. And I was on the bank prepared for a dive before I saw a small figure below me seated on a boulder at the edge of the water, half hidden from view by the steep slope of the bank. I saw the flash of bare feet in the water. Poised ready to spring I gave a shout, “Look out,” and shot out over the small figure and into the pool.
When I came up, blowing like a porpoise, the figure was standing waist deep in water and waving thin excited arms abroad. I saw the face. It was gaunt, fever-bright, and not like my lad’s as I had seen it last, but it was Joey who stood there.
I lifted him up and he clasped my neck almost to strangulation, wrapping his long legs around me, and I raced with him to the house. Once inside I stripped him, seized a towel and rubbed his cold little body until it glowed, and he laughed and cried and laughed again, and clutched my neck and finally stammered:
“I got—got here! I come for my birthday—all the way from the East alone.”
“Alone!”
“Yep! And I’m going to stay. Going to stay forever—Bell Brandon said so. They’s a letter in my satchel for you.”
I hugged him to my breast.