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Hearing this, I started for the secret postern, and as I opened my door, heard the honest old soldier shout: "Corpril uv th' guard, No. 1!" and, in a lower and appealing tone: "Liftinint, if ye hear me, come quick to the little sargint. I fear th' dear b'y is dyin'."
"I'm thinkin', now," said Mike, presently, in a hushed voice, "as maybe it be Dan Sheedy's sperrit, comin' back to ha'nt me coz I didn't give up them boots o' his to his b'y, accordin' to me promise." "Shure an' why not that?" agreed Barney, cheered by the hope that the visitation was not meant for him.
"Doctor!" sniffed Spike, "he don't know what I suffer. I may be dyin' for all he knows." "You are!" sighed Mrs. Trapes, with a gloomy nod. "Eh what?" exclaimed Spike, sitting up. "So am I we all are by the minute. Every night we're a day's march nearer home! So now jest set right there an' go on dyin', my b'y!" "Say, now, cut it out," said Spike, wriggling.
The look of pity in his eye when it lighted upon Allis gave place to one of rebellious accusation as he turned his head slowly and glared at Redpath. "Ye put up a bad ride there, b'y," he commenced, speaking in a hard, dry, defiant tone; "a bad ride, an' no mistake. Mind I'm not sayin' ye could a-won, but ye might a-tried," and he waited for Redpath's defense.
"It's all right," he added, very softly, "an', Half-breed, me b'y, if me frinds have turned inimies, why, I'm thinkin' me inimy has turned frind, for that I'm sure you were, an' this I'm certain y 'are. So here's the grip av me fist, an' y'll have it." Pierre remembered that disconcerting, iron grip of friendship for many a day.
Remembering which, Geoffrey Ravenslee, turning to look at this grimy door, beheld it vague and blurred and indistinct as he turned and climbed that much-trodden stair. Upon the top landing they found Mrs. Trapes, who leaned over the rails to greet them. "So you found that b'y, Mr. Geoffrey. Hermy'll be glad. You'll have heard of poor little Maggie Finlay? Poor lass poor, lonely lass!
O'Callaghan, from time to time, as the cooking progressed. "And I'll jist be tellin' you, Pat, you're not so green as some girls I've seen. I'd rather have a handy b'y as an unhandy girl any day." A little later she stood in the shanty door. "Come, Moike!" she called. "Bring the little b'ys in to dinner. Pat's a-dishin' it a'ready."
"She was comin'," she said, "to her own darlin' b'y, from whom she'd been parted manny a year, believin' him dead, or Tom Whelan had nivir touched hand o' hers." The bearer of the news had but just arrived, and he told it only to the Chief Trader and Pierre. At a word from Pierre the man promised to hold his peace. Then Pierre went to Wonta's lodge.
"He can move; he surprised me," the Trainer said to Allis as she dismounted. "He's not blown, either; he's as fresh as a daisy. Gad! we'll do those blackguards up yet, I believe." The gallop had attracted Mike's attention also. As Allis moved away he called after her, "I say, b'y, hould on a minute. What's yer name, ennyway?" "Al," answered the small voice.
"I've nothing to forgive," said Henry Withers. A smile lighted the blanched face of the dying man. "Give me love to the b'y to Peter Macnamara," he said, and fell back with a smile on his face. "I'd do it again. Wot's a lie so long as it does good?" said Henry Withers afterwards to Holgate the engineer. "But tell 'er tell Kitty no fear! I ain't no bloomin' fool. 'E's 'appy that's enough.
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