“The last o’ Slaney’s kids ‘passed in’ last night. Guess we’re goin’ to bury her.”
Buck nodded. He had no words. But he carefully avoided looking in the direction of Slaney Dick, who sat in a far corner smoking his pipe and hugging his great knees.
Beasley went on in the same half-mocking tone—
“Guess it’s up to me to read the service over her.”
“You!”
Buck could not help the ejaculation. Beasley Melford was an unfrocked Churchman. Nor was it known the reason of his dismissal from his calling. All Buck knew was that Beasley was a man of particularly low morals and detestable nature. The thought that he was to administer the last rites of the Church over the dead body of a pure and innocent infant set his every feeling in active protest. He turned to Slaney.
“The Padre buried the others?” he said questioningly.
It was Dick’s partner, Abe Allinson, who took it upon himself to answer.
“Y’ see the Padre’s done a heap. Slaney’s missis didn’t guess we’d orter worrit him. That’s how she said.”