She handed him a small pocket Bible.
"Dear mother," he said, as he placed the book carefully
within the breast of his coat, "the Redskin that
takes that from me must take my scalp first. But
don't fear for me. You've often said the Lord would
protect me. So he will, mother, for sure it's an errand
o' peace."
"Ay that's it, that's it," murmured the widow in a
half-soliloquy.
Dick Varley spent that night in converse with his