"Never a word. Never a sound. Mary Mull drawed back a step—an' stared at me with her eyes growin' wider an' wider. An' Tim Mull was lookin' out o' the window. An' I was much amazed by all this. An' then Mary Mull turned t' Tim. 'Tim,' says she, her voice slow an' low, 'did you not write Tumm a letter?'
"Tim faced about. 'No, Mary,' says he. 'I—I hadn't no time—t' waste with writin'.'
"'That's queer, Tim.'
"'I—I—I forgot.'
"'I'm sorry—Tim.'
"'Oh, Mary, I didn't want to!' says Tim. 'That's the truth of it, dear. I—I hated—t' do it.'
"'An' you said never a word comin' up the hill?'
"'God's sake!' cries Tim, like a man beggin' mercy, 'I couldn't say a word like that!'
"Mary turned then t' me. 'Tumm,' says she, 'little Toby—is dead.'
"'Dead, Mary!'