“It’s the man I expected,” he said. “A foolish fellow, but—a smart man. You’re sure he’s dead? Sure?”
The corporal nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Poor devil. I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE FALL OF THE OLD PINE
The gray of dawn was slowly gladdening toward the warmer hue of day. The eastern skies lit with that pallid yellow which precedes the gold and amber of the rising sun. Somewhere, far below the horizon, the great day god was marching onward, ever onward, shedding its splendor upon a refreshed and waking world.
The valley of Leaping Creek was stirring.
Whatever the shortcomings of the citizens of Rocky Springs, morning activity was not one of them. But they knew, on this day of days, a fresh era in the history of the village was about to begin. Every man knew this. Every woman. Even every child who had power to understand anything at all.