The sheriff thought that he had drifted away and did not hear the answer, but in a few moments he opened his eyes and said, brightly, “Thank you, Amos.” It was the first time that he had used the other man’s Christian name.
“Yes, Ned,” said the sheriff.
Next morning at daybreak he died. His mother was with him. Just before he went to sleep his mind wandered a little. He fancied that he was a little boy, and that he was sick, and wanted to say his prayers to his mother. “But I’m so sick I can’t get out of bed,” said he. “God won’t mind my saying them in bed, will He?” Then he folded his hands, and reverently repeated the childish rhyme, and so fell into a peaceful sleep, which deepened into peace. In this wise, perhaps, were answered many prayers.
Amos made all the arrangements the next day. He said that they were going home from Fairport on the day following, but he managed to conclude all the necessary legal formalities in time to take the evening train. Once on the train, and his companions in their sections, he drew a long breath.
“It may not have been Mame that I saw,” he said, taking out his cigar-case on the way to the smoking-room; “it was merely a glimpse—she in a buggy, me on foot; and it may be she wouldn’t do a thing or think the game worth blackmail; but I don’t propose to run any chances in this deal. Hullo—excuse me, miss!”
The last words were uttered aloud to Ruth Graves, who had touched him on the arm. He had a distinct admiration for this young woman, founded on the grounds that she cried very quietly, that she never was underfoot, and that she was so unobtrusively kind to Mrs. Smith.
“Anything I can do?” he began, with genuine willingness.
She motioned him to take a seat. “Mrs. Smith is safe in her section,” she said; “it isn’t that. I wanted to speak to you. Mr. Wickliff, Ned told me how it was. He said he couldn’t die lying to everybody, and he wanted me to know how good you were. I am perfectly safe, Mr. Wickliff,” as a look of annoyance puckered the sheriff’s brow. “He told me there was a woman who might some time try to make money out of his mother if she could find her, and I was to watch. Mr. Wickliff, was she rather tall and slim, with a fine figure?”