Sam gave a low bubbling cry. He was evidently greatly shaken by this intelligence, the very first news he had received to show that, after all, the suffering had not fallen to himself and his mother alone.
“So that’s one reason why mother, when she heard that you had been seen here, and were sick, sent me up to find you, because we both believe father is weakening. He isn’t the same man he used to be, Sam. His shoulders are bowed these days, and he hasn’t much to say to anybody. He was always a proud man, you remember, and I guess he hates to admit that he was harsh and unforgiving when he sent you away from home; but I do honestly believe, Sam, he’s near the turning point now. A little thing would make him break down.”
Hugh could not help feeling pleased. Indeed, looking backward to many things that had happened in his past he could not think of any that gave him greater reason for thankfulness than the fact of his agreeing to accompany Gus on what to some might have seemed like a wild-goose errand into these woods.
“We expect to stay up here a few days, you see, Sam,” he explained, as they sat there and talked of many things that interested them all. “By the time we’re ready to fold up our blankets and start in the big seven-passenger car back home, you’ll be fit to travel. By then you can have made your plans, just what you expect to do, though the chief thing, I expect, will be to meet that good mother of yours, and fill her brave heart with new hope.”
“I tell you, Hugh, and the rest of you good fellows,” said Sam, “the minutes are going to drag like lead to me till the time comes when I can feel her arms about my neck again. Oh! none of you can ever understand what it means to a fellow to know that thousands of miles, yes, and something worse than that even, stands between him and his mother. How many nights I’ve dreamed I saw her, only to wake up and realize the terrible truth! A stronger hand than my own has guided me here, I honestly and truly believe.”
“Oh! I nearly forgot something else I meant to tell you, Sam!” exclaimed Gus just then, “not that it’s a matter of any particular importance, you see, but then, Mr. Jones, the post master, called me into his office to show it to me, and ask if I knew whether you expected to be back home soon. You see, he knows a little about what happened years ago, though few people in Oakvale do.”
“Why, what did he have to show you that was for me?” asked Sam, apparently puzzled to understand it all.
“It was a letter that had come by registered mail,” explained Gus, smiling fondly at his brother.
“For me, do you mean?” demanded the other.
“Yes, and from Alaska, too,” he was told. “I already knew that you had been seen near the camp up here, but I didn’t want to tell Mr. Jones that. So I just said it was possible you might be dropping in to sign for that letter yourself before a great while, if so, would he hold it for you, which he said he would, and gave me to understand he meant to keep it quiet.”