Again the man passed a hand across his brow. But this time he shook his head.
“’Tain’t the sun, Jess,” he said vaguely. “It’s––it’s oil!”
For a moment the woman stared. Then she turned to the gaping twins, and hustled them out of the room to play. Poor Zip’s head had suddenly gone wrong, she believed, and––
But as she came back from the door she found that he had risen from the chair in which she had set him, and was standing looking at her, and through her, and beyond her, as though she were not there at all. And in an instant she was at his side, with an arm thrown protectingly about his shoulders.
“Tell me, Zip––oh, tell me, dear, what’s wrong? Surely––surely, after all that has gone––Oh, tell me! Don’t keep me in suspense. Is––is it James?” she finished up in a terrified whisper.
The mention of that detested name had instant effect. Scipio’s face cleared, and the dazed look of his eyes vanished as if by magic. He shook his head.
“James is dead,” he said simply. And Jessie breathed a sigh of such relief that even he observed it, and it gladdened him. “Yes,” he went on, “James is sure dead. Wild Bill done him up and his whole gang. But Bill’s gone, too.”
“Bill, too?” Jessie murmured.
Scipio nodded; and perplexity stole over his face again.
“Yes. I––I don’t seem to understand. Y’see, he done James up, an’––an’ James done him up––sort o’ mutual. Y’see, they told me the rights of it, but––but ther’s so many things I––I don’t seem to got room for them all in my head. It seems, too, that Bill had quite a piece of money. An’ he’s kind of given it to the kids. I––I don’t––”