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Before day broke there came an hour when Garry Devereau lifted himself upon one elbow and opened his eyes to stare half wildly, but very sanely, about the room. His gaze flitted wonderingly from wall to wall before it rested, fearfully fixed, upon Steve's brown face. Instantly he looked away, flinchingly, and met Fat Joe's voluminous grin and looked back again, cunningly cautious.
I suppose the gold cross is the highest award they'll ever have, hey?" "Guess so." "There's nothing better than gold, is there?" "It isn't because there's nothing better than gold," said Garry, still intent upon hitting his mark. "It's because there's nothing better than heroism bravery risking your life." "Diamonds they might have a diamond cross, hey?" "What for?" "What?" "Oh, I don't know.
The rest was then packed in a cloth flour bag that Garry had procured at the general store, showing that he had had this idea in the back of his head since they had arrived at the border. Some little distance away, a thick pine tree was located and careful observation was made so that the boys could find it easily.
He tore the page out, struck a match and burned it. Again he dropped back in his chair and closed his eyes. Into the blur came Garry. "Kenny!" he called. "Kenny!" Kenny opened his eyes with a start. Garry stood by the cabin door, his hand upon the knob. "Don asked me to come. Kenny, I was on the porch. Great God! the kid must have gone crazy." "You heard?" "Yes." "He wanted to atone."
There's been some talk of chaining you to an easel with a brush in your hand for your own good." Kenny as usual consigned the club to Gehenna. Nevertheless, as Garry saw, he winced. Very well, he would work, furiously, as only he knew how to work and when he had scored another brilliant success Fate intervened. To his intense excitement Kenny was summoned for jury duty.
Garry and Phil both sensed that there was danger in the air, or, at the very least, a need for extra care, and followed the lead of Dick in making a quick exit from the house. They hustled down the sidewalk, and noticing an open hallway, unlighted, Dick led the way in there. "Not a whisper, now," he cautioned.
But the day had shown symptoms sufficient to convince me that there was some reality after all in the stories of detention and resistance, so frequently mentioned; more than once had the figures of the two horsemen been visible from the roof-deck of the steamer, still keeping the Fort Garry trail, and still forcing their horses at a gallop.
His chief claim to distinction, or perhaps his only one, was that he had served as bos'n for ten years under White Henshaw; but this record was enough to win the respect of even Garry Cochrane. It was Jim Kyle who had peered into the face of Harrigan, for now he was pushing to one side the lantern he had used and settling back into his place in the circle.
Garry, and he said, "Oh, a fellow like me, who's always got his head full of pictures and things, and forgets what he's at." "Then you don't really beg for anything, do you?" I said. "Lord, no," he said, "except when I'm out with talkative young sports, and then I beg them to keep quiet."
It was much as though he did not want the sound to penetrate to that dark end room in the shack beyond. And then he was quickly sober-faced again. "I think he is going to, Joe. I think I may promise that he is likely to, very, very soon. And it will make a difference a mighty big difference for Garry.
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