"After all I fear it is too late." Maclane touched pulse and brow. "He is beyond human help. He will not speak again." Kneeling by the sled he began prayers for the passing soul, when he was interrupted by a cry from Evelyn, as Walter's arm, which had rested loosely across his breast, fell stiffly by his side, disclosing an open letter which, as she saw immediately, was in her father's hand.
"Women are dead easy—women and parsons," chuckled Raish, who had adroitly placed the missive where Evelyn found it. Going to her where she stood, apart, reading her father's transcription of Nick's behest to Gelly, "Well," he asked, "now are you convinced?"
"One moment, please!" Without explanation to him, Evelyn ran up the hill where, international formalities complied with, under the two flags the Bully was bidding his followers farewell.
"Dear, dear Nick"—she clasped his handcuffed fists in her soft, warm palms—"you welcomed me to the district; you are my oldest friend. Tell me, when did you last see my father?"
"Lucky? Why, now come ter think of it, Lucky were here not an hour since. Fit as a fiddle, now warn't he, boys? Grand reports of the Rainbow Mine. Shovelin' out pay-dirt like greased lightnin'! Ain't thet so, boys? Sent love, of course, and he'd be in ter see yer ter-morrer. His own words, d'ye see? Eh, boys?"
To which the boys, challenged by Nick's fiery eye, loyally responded: "Sure! Thet's what! Betcherlife!"
Evelyn looked from face to face and read that, beneath a clumsy mask, through heroic but mistaken kindness, ill news was being held back from her. "Thank you all so much," she replied, and, turning, ran downhill to rejoin Raish.
Sarah intercepted her. "Miss, I think we had ought to be getting back to camp. The orphans are behaving scandalous, getting themselves engaged three deep. I don't know as you can blame 'em, miss. I suppose it's a microbe. I myself have just refused three marriages and two guilty loves."
"I shall have to leave you to manage the orphans, Sarah." Evelyn smiled an odd smile. "I myself am going to be married and start off on a honeymoon immediately."
"You don't say, miss!" The maid raised her eyebrows. "Well, a common soldier is hardly in the same social class as my own Scotch intended, with a literary turn and a copper proposition, but I will say that Sergeant Scarlett looks and acts quite the gentleman."