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Updated: June 19, 2025
"It was Aleck's fault, mother," he said, anxious to screen his hero. "He said something about Maimie, that Don wouldn't tell me, at the blacksmith shop in the Sixteenth, and Ranald struck him and knocked him flat, and he could not get up for a long time. Yankee has been showing him how. I am going to learn, mother," interjected Hughie.
Aleck's left hand acted as it were upon its own responsibility, closing in the darkness upon Eben's shirt and holding fast, while the lad's right hand held up the boat's gunwale. The next moment he felt himself drawn off his feet and being dragged through the water, in which the boat was jerking and dancing as if to shake itself free. It was too dark to see, but this is what was taking place.
There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary in the case; we read of such things in the paper, and a paragraph or two is considered sufficient space to give so commonplace a happening. But there was Lite, loyal to his last breath in the face of his secret belief that Aleck was probably guilty; loyal and blaming himself bitterly for hurting Aleck's cause when he had meant only to help.
So you holler for 'Sim! Sim!" Big Aleck's voice was close to her as she sat in the tent. Mary Warren felt about her, back of her on the blankets, stealthily seeking some weapon of defense. She paused. Under her fingers was something which felt like leather. She made no sudden movement, but temporized. "How could I help it?" she asked. Always her hand was feeling behind her on the blankets.
As he fastened the hook he heard a sharp "Back!" behind him, and he knew that the next moment Aleck's team would be away with their load. With a yell he sprang at his lines, lashed the blacks over the back, and called to them once more. Again his team responded, and with a mighty heave, the stump came slowly out, carrying with it what looked like half a ton of earth.
And hung to Aleck's running gear, they reminded you of the swinging jigger in a clock. They almost make me forget his hands. When Aleck laid a flipper on a cayuse's back, you'd think the critter was blanketed. And then there was his Adam's apple he had so many special features, it's hard to keep track of them. About a foot of Aleck's protrudin' into air was due to neck.
Then "Ahoy!" came up, so clearly that there was no room for doubt, and Aleck's heart began to beat fast as thought after thought flashed through his brain.
But his evident terror, and the very incoherence of his narrative, told in his favor. "He's been a truthful lad all his days," his mother proudly testified; "while as to drink not a drop of spirits has passed his lips sin' I gev' him a wee drop for the spasms when he wes a wean!" And Aleck's blushing approval of the maternal statement bore witness to its truth.
For a few moments there was a pause, during which in the deep silence there was the regular dip of oars, and the lanthorns gently rose and fell upon the smooth rollers of the tide. Then there was a cry which went straight to Aleck's heart, so piteous and wailing were its tones: "Oh, Eben! Eben! Come back, dear; come back!"
Did I tell you that he insisted on Aleck's having the room next his, precisely as big and airy as his own? There's a door between, and when it's open they can see each other. When I left Jord the door was open, and he was staring in at Aleck, who was still sleeping off the anesthetic, and a big tear was running down Jord's cheek. He can't stir himself, but that doesn't seem to bother him any.
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