Luck nodded. “Le Saint. He looks like one of the old men in the Bible. He is going to teach me, if you will let him.”
Sleed stared down at the floor, with unseeing eyes, while Luck’s words seemed to run in a meaningless jumble through his mind.
“We need a preacher here,” said Luck softly, “and he is very good and kind. Will you let him teach me, Daddy?”
Sleed roused from his stupor and got heavily to his feet.
“Don’t you feel good?” asked Luck. “Your face is so white and your eyes——”
“No, I’m all right!” grunted Sleed thickly. “I—I lost a lot of sleep, and this blasted heat—” He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt.
“Are we going to live here always?” asked Luck.
“Always?” Sleed tried to smile. “Always is a long time, Luck.”
Sleed picked up his hat and started for the door, but Luck took him by the arm.
“You did not say about my teacher.”