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It was hard for Cam and Dollie at first, but when Dollie found she might cook every meal and send it up to my aunt, she was more reconciled; while Cam came and went, doing a multitude of kindly acts. This was long before the days of telephones, and a hundred steps were needed for every one taken to-day. In the weeks that followed, O'mie hung between life and death.
Go in and let Dollie give you some hot berry pie." "To cool 'em off," O'mie whispered in my ear. "Nothin' so coolin' as a hot berry pie in July. Let's you and me go to the creek an' thaw out." That evening Jean Pahusca found the jug supposed to be locked in Conlow's chest of tools inside his shop. I had found where that red forge light came from, and had watched it from my window many a night.
Don't mistreat him, but O'mie, for Heaven's sake, kape your eyes open, especially when he promises to be good. It's our stunt, Phil, to watch him close now he's took to reformin' to the girls." "O'mie, we know, and Father Le Claire knows, but how can we make those foolish girls understand? Mary believes everything that's said to her anyhow, and you heard Marjie to-night.
Wild theories filled the air, stories of strangers struggling with somebody in the dark; the sound of screams and of some one running away. But none of these stories could be substantiated. And all the while what Tell Mapleson had said to Aunt Candace and me when he came to warn us, kept repeating itself to me. "They're awful against O'mie. They think he knows too much."
It was only on the town side that the bushes screened this point. All the west prairie was in that tender gloom that would roll back in shadowy waves before the rising moon. "Phil," O'mie began, "don't be no bigger fool than nature cut you out fur to be. Don't you trust that 'good Injun' of Marjie's, but kape one eye on him comin' an t' other 'n on him goin'."
After O'mie had left me in the courthouse yard, the evening after the party, I stopped on my way home to see Marjie a moment. She had gone with the Meads out to Red Range, her mother said, and might not be back till late, possibly not till to-morrow. Judson was sitting in the room when I came to the door. I had no especial reason to think Mrs. Whately was confused by my coming.
"If you Kansas folks weren't such damned abolitionists you'd have some able-bodied niggers to do your work right." O'mie winked at me and gave a low whistle. Neither the wink nor the whistle was lost on the speaker, who frowned darkly at the boy. Cam squinted up at the men good-naturedly. "Them horses dangerous?" he asked. "Yes, they are," the stranger replied. "Can we have a room downstairs?
"Spakin' of bein' paupers and bein' kept by Judson, Lettie who is payin' the wages of sin, in money and fine clothes, right now? It's on the books, and I kape the books. But, my dear girl," O'mie looked straight into her black eyes "they's books bein' kept of the purpose, price av the goods, and money. And you and him may answer for that.
He found out many things, even Jean's fear of ghosts. That's the Indian in Jean. The redskin doesn't live that isn't afraid of a ghost, and O'mie makes a good one. This traffic has netted you and Mapleson shamefully large amounts. "Where's my evidence?" he asked, as Judson was about to speak.
"That's why we are runnin' you for judge," said Cam. "This cussed country needs you in every office it's got to clean out that gang that robs an' cheats the Injuns, an' then makes 'em ravin' crazy with drinkin'. They's more 'n Conlow to blame, though, Judge. Keep one eye on the Government agents and Indian traders." "I wonder where Jean did go anyhow," O'mie whispered to me.
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