"'I believe I only stared at her, and then wrung Parker's hand and went out.
"'He married her the next month, and—and—Trocalara has been heaven ever since.
"'I never knew what a Christian was before she came: you know we have no faith in Texas in things we can't draw a bead on. But when she read me the story of the Scribes and Pharisees and Christ I felt ashamed to be like those Flat-heads and Greasers in the New Testament who did not believe in him; and now I feel sure of knowing some one in heaven, for Kitty has promised to find me there.'
"I forget a great many of the incidents he told us," Donaldson went on in the quiet that was almost equal to the calm around us; "and I dare say it would bore you to listen. But he certainly was the most extraordinary man I ever met. I can't do justice to his expressions, for they lack his soft voice and curious hesitation. I wish we had him here, though."
"Did you never hear of him again?" some one asked.
"Yes. When we reached New York I found him standing in his old place by the aft wheel-house in a dazed sort of way, with apparently no intention of going ashore; so I asked him what hotel he intended to stop at. His only answer was to hand me a letter dated some days before:
"'Junta, Texas.
"'Kitty died last night. It is a boy, and is named after you—her last wish.
"'Parker.'
That was all the letter said, but as I looked at his white face and burning eyes I saw it was what he had feared.