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Updated: June 19, 2025
It was on this point that the old Hermit had been wont to sit, and from which tradition says he fell to his doom. It was here we had seen Jean Pahusca on that hot August afternoon the summer before. How long ago all that seemed now as the memory of it flashed up in my mind, and I recalled O'mie's quiet boast, "If he can get up there, so can I!" I was a careless boy that day.
Then it was that I heard O'mie's low words: "Bedad, Phil, an' that's how it is wid ye, is it? Then we've got to kill that Injun, just for grandeur." His voice set a mighty force tingling in every nerve. The thrill of that moment is mine after all these years, for in that instant I was born again.
"It is vouchsafed sometimes to know a bit of heaven here on earth," Le Claire had said to me when he talked of O'mie's father. It came to me that day; the cool, green valley by the river, the vine-covered old stone cabin, the sunlit draw opening to a limitless world of summer peace and beauty, and Marjie with me, while both of us were young and we loved each other.
Presently his tow head bobbed through the greenery again and a jug dripping full of cool water was in his hands. "Thame leadin' that brought uth here done it," he lisped, moistening O'mie's lips with the precious liquid. Bud had a quaint use of Bible reference, although he disclaimed Dr. Hemingway's estimate of him as the best scholar in the Presbyterian Sunday-school.
"Well, what ever did become of that Jean, anyhow? Anybody here seen him for five years?" The company looked at one another. Bud's face was as innocent as a baby's. Lettie Conlow at the foot of the table encountered O'mie's eyes and her face flamed. Dr.
I had just cause for wreaking vengeance on my foeman. Twice he had attempted to take O'mie's life. The boy might be dead from the headlong fall at this very minute, for all I knew. The clods were only two days old on Bud Anderson's grave. Nothing but the skill and sacrifice of O'mie had saved Marjie from this brute's lust six years before. While he lived, my own life was never for one moment safe.
I thought of Marjie and of what she had escaped. And then clear, as if he were beside me, I heard O'mie's voice: "Phil, oh, Phil, come, come!" it pleaded. I started up and stared around me.
Fortune favored O'mie's inquisition scheme. Judson had hardly left the store when Lettie Conlow walked in. Evidently Judson's company on the Sunday evening before had given her a purpose in coming. In our play as children Lettie was the first to "get mad and call names." In her young womanhood she was vindictive and passionate. "Good-afternoon, Lettie.
It was O'mie's way of saying what most persons of the community felt toward my father from the time he drove into Springvale in the purple twilight of that June evening in 1854.
"While O'mie was taking a vacation in the heated days of August, he slept up in the stone cabin. Jean Pahusca, thief, highwayman, robber, and assassin, kept his stolen goods there. Mapleson and his mercantile partner divided the spoils. O'mie's sense of humor is strong, and one night he played ghost for Jean. You know the redskin's inherent fear of ghosts.
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