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Updated: May 29, 2025
Three years before, at the time of the great Centennial, when, in the full vigor of manhood, Will Cummins had visited his native town, no sounds had so stirred old memories of fields and mountains as those homely sounds of crow and cow-bell. Then neighbors had flocked about the bold Californian, eager to press his hand and to look into his fearless eyes.
"Now!" yelled Cummins again. The wilderness song, that was known from Athabasca to Hudson's Bay, burst forth in a savage enthusiasm that reached to the skies: "Oh, ze cariboo-oo-oo, ze cariboo-oo-oo, He roas' on high, Jes' under ze sky, Ze beeg white cariboo-oo-oo!" Cummins drew his revolver and blazed fiercely into the air. "Now!" he shrieked.
Since Colonel Cummins was accustomed to say in moments when his humour escaped his discretion, things highly appreciative of bodices, the role of Lady Dolly's elbows could hardly be dismissed as unimportant. Moreover, the husband attached to the elbows belonged to the Department of which Colonel John was the head, so that they rested, one may say, upon a very special plane.
"I hope I shall relish my vittles to-night," said Aunt Hitty, as she poured her tea into her saucer, and set the cup in her little blue "cup-plate;" "but I've had the neuralgy so in my face that it's be'n more 'n ten days sence I've be'n able to carry a knife to my mouth.... Your meat vittles is always so tasty, Miss Cummins.
It wouldn't help Will Cummins any, but it would give me solid satisfaction." "Well, Keeler, I'm glad of one thing, Cummins was a bachelor, like me, and not a married man." "I've thought about that, but it don't give me any comfort. Will ought to have married years ago. His life might have counted for something then; but now it seems as if it had been wasted."
And then what would happen then? Now it was to convey to the woman a haunch of a caribou he had slain. Again it was to bring her child a strange plaything from the forest. More frequently it was to do the work that Cummins would have done. He seldom went within the low door, but stood outside, speaking a few words, while Cummins' wife talked to him.
For a few moments he sat watching the deep breathing of Cummins, unrolling the cloth as he watched, until he had spread out upon the table before him a number of closely written pages of paper. He weighted them at one end with his violin, and held them down at the other with his hands. The writing was in French.
I have told you the facts, my friend, and leave them to your judgment. The legend is that as Christ left the judgment hall on His way to Calvary, Kartophilus smote Him, saying, "Man, go quicker!" and was answered, "I indeed go quickly; but thou shalt tarry till I come again." You've heard tell, I dare say, about Landlord Cummins and Billy Bosistow, and the great jealousy there was between them.
"That's what old man Palmer says," remarked Keeler, looking across the cañon at Palmer's Diggings. "You and Cummins did pretty well over there fifteen years ago," and the little detective's eyes twinkled at his own cleverness. "We made a living; that's about all." "But Cummins was a wealthy man some years back." "Well, his partner never was," laughed Keeler.
She pulled him into a chair as Cummins left, and tied an apron about his shoulders. "Close your eyes and don't move!" she commanded, laughing into his surprised face as she ran into her room. A moment later she returned with one hand held behind her back. The hot blood surged through Jan's veins when he felt her fingers running gently through his long hair.
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