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"What can I do, Mrs. Haley?" enquired Cameron politely. "Oh, I don't know," said Mrs. Haley wearily. "I want a few sticks for the breakfast, but perhaps I can get along with chips, but chips don't give no steady fire." "If you would show me just what to do," said Cameron with some hesitation, "I mean, where is the wood to be got?"
I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Cameron, smiling pleasantly. "Say, Sam, don't get mad, Sam," interposed Haley. "This young feller's a friend o' Tim's. I'll git another bottle a' right. I've got the stuff right here." He pulled out his roll of bills. "And lots more where this comes from." "Let me have that, Mr. Haley, I'll get the bottle for you," said Cameron, reaching out for the bills.
This I observed, then all was blackness and silence. Three days later I recovered consciousness in a hospital. As the memory of that tragic night slowly evolved in my ailing brain recognized in my attendant Moxon's confidential workman, Haley. Responding to a look he approached, smiling. "Tell me about it," I managed to say, faintly "all about it."
Then Will, trying to think of some cutting thing to say, would hasten to join his bosom friend Frank Haley, perhaps remarking as they tramped off: "Hanged if I can understand girls anyhow." "Why, what's up?" "Oh, Grace is such a primper. She's got a new dress and some sort of fancy dingus on it doesn't mix in right. She says it makes her look too stout, and she's going to have it changed." "Hum!
He did not seem to hear her, scraping away diligently at the bars with the bit of tin. Was he going mad? She peered closely into his face. Something she saw there made her draw suddenly back, something which Haley had not seen, that lay beneath the pinched, vacant look it had caught since the trial, or the curious gray shadow that rested on it. That gray shadow, yes, she knew what that meant.
Just let the men in this camp, from John here," indicating the Chinaman at the rear of the tent, "to the Sergeant yonder, hear you by the faintest tone indicate anything but adoration for Nurse Haley, and you will need the whole Police Force to deliver you from their fury." "Good Heavens!" said Cameron in an undertone. "A nurse! With those hands!" He shuddered.
"Look here, now, Loker, a beautiful opening. We'll do a business here on our own account; we does the catchin'; the boy, of course, goes to Mr. Haley, we takes the gal to Orleans to speculate on. An't it beautiful?"
There was about her that human quality that invites confidence. She made friends by the hundreds, and friends are a business asset. Those blithe, dressy, and smooth-spoken gentlemen known as traveling men used to tell her their troubles, perched on a stool near the stove, and show her the picture of their girl in the back of their watch, and asked her to dinner at the Haley House.
"I'll risk that," said Haley, coolly. "Good-by." He walked up the slope, and disappeared from view, leaving Robert bound to the tree, a helpless prisoner. Captain Haley kept on his way to the shore. The four sailors were all within hail, and on the captain's approach got the boat in readiness to return. "Where is the boy?" asked Haley. "Hasn't he got back?" "No, sir." "That is strange.
He carried a long parcel and when he went through the more than waist-high drifts he held this high above his head. "Hi, there!" yelled Marty, waving his mittened hands. "Ain't you lost over here, Mr. Haley?" "I see somebody has been before me," laughed Nelson Haley, following Walky Dexter's tracks over the fence and up to the cleared porch. "How do you do, Miss Janice?
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