A silence of some minutes followed, during which Crane burned his cigar very rapidly.
“What fools we were,” Peck presently ventured, “to be fighting a duel about her!”
“No, sir,” said Crane, with a far-away look in his eyes, “no, sir, I would die for her right now.”
So the subject was dropped between them forever.
Some of Gaslucky’s creditors bought Hotel Helicon at the sheriff’s sale, but it proved a barren investment.
The house stands there now, weather-beaten and lonely on the peak of Mt. Boab, all tenantless and forlorn.
As to Tolliver’s still-house I cannot say, but at stated intervals Crane receives a small cask marked: “J’yful juice, hannel with keer,” which comes from his “Pap’s uncle Pete.”
THE END.