Everet Mapleson sat suddenly erect and looked the astonishment he felt.
His face had grown as white as his shirt front, while his companion was speaking, and his heart was beating with great heavy throbs that almost suffocated him; for a wild suspicion had suddenly taken possession of him.
“You say the man’s name was Dale?” he asked.
“Yes, William Dale——or Captain Dale, as we all called him. You see he was only newly married, and had just brought the little woman there, and that was the reason he didn’t like to leave her alone over night in that wild region,” the miner explained, beginning to notice his listener’s strange manner.
“You are sure that they were married—that she was really his wife?” said Everet, in an excited tone.
The miner looked the surprise he felt at such a question.
“Why, yes; at least everybody supposed she was his wife; he said she was; while they seemed to set the world by each other, and the poor captain grieved like one bereft of his reason when she died.”
“Died?” gasped his listener.
“Yes, poor little lady! she was in the camp just one blessed year, then the little shaver came, and the mother never got up again.”
“There was a child!” ejaculated Everet Mapleson, losing his self-possession more and more.