"Yes, Molly." Power took the saddle from his horse, and came into the eye of the lamp. The hut was empty when he glanced inside. "Alone to-night, Molly? Are they over at the shaft?"
"No, they went to Surprise this morning. They reckoned to be home by dark. I thought you might be them. Maybe Dad is soaked. Mum takes a drop times, too."
"They had better be back soon if they mean to be back dry. The rains are here at last." A mutter of thunder began very far away. "Listen!"
Power took off his hat and tossed it on the table in the hut. His dress was a shirt wide open at the neck, and his sleeves were rolled up above his elbows. But the night grew hotter moment by moment. Molly, on the box, kept her chin in her hands and stared out into the dark, and he felt no more talkative than she. He leaned back against the doorpost. As he did so a second mutter of thunder began very far away. The trees were wrapped from sight in the dark. Not one star peered from the sky.
"What's the matter, Molly? Have we left you too long alone? Your little tongue has gone to sleep, thinking there was no more use for it to-night." She did not answer, and he thought she shivered. He bent down this time and spoke sharply. "What's making you shiver, child? You have not a touch of fever, have you? You had better wrap up quick and get away from the open."
"It isn't fever."
Something in her voice made him stoop down until they were face to face. "What's the matter? You are changed to-night."
"Aw, nothing is the matter."
She would not look round, and must stare on into the dark. Power sat on his heels on her right hand. He lit a pipe and waited for the strange mood to pass away. He was damp with perspiration, and the sultriness of the night rested on him like a weight. Then he heard a voice.
"The old dog died to-day."