"We'll have them up at the store, and fix 'em ready for transport," he ordered. Then he sought to take the girl's arm while his hard eyes assumed a regret that utterly ill-suited them. "Come along up to the fort while I tell you."
But Keeko avoided him. Panic had seized her.
"No," she cried, in a tone she rarely permitted herself. "Tell me here—right now. Is—is she dead?"
She would take no denial. There was something in her clear, fearless eyes finely compelling. The man nodded.
"Dead?"
The girl spoke in a low, heart-broken whisper. She had forgotten the man. Dead! Her mother was dead. That poor suffering creature who had clung so long to life in her frantic desire to safeguard her child. Dead! And she would never know the success of the plans she had laboured so ardently to work out.
Stunning as was the blow Keeko promptly reacted.
"When did she die?" she demanded, in a tone that no longer needed disguise.
"I'd say a month after you quit."
"And where—where's she buried?"