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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Good for you, Phil. Bet we've got one fellow to make a Bothton girl open her eyeth even if Tillhurtht couldn't. He'th jutht jealouth. But we all know Phil! Nobody'll ever doubt old Philip!" It took the edge off the embarrassment, and O'mie, who had sidled over into Marjie's neighborhood, said in a low voice: "Tillhurst is a consummit liar, beautiful to look upon. That girl tagged Phil.
"In two days I can do everything needful; while if the word were started here now, it might lead to a Rebel uprising, and you would be outnumbered by the Copperheads here, backed by the Fingal's Creek crowd. You could do nothing in an open riot." "I comprehend ye," said O'mie. "It's iverything into me eyes an' ears an' nothin' out av me mouth."
"I don't wonder this Jean was afraid of him," a recent-comer to the town declared. "Oh, if he was afraid of this young man, this boy," Judson declared, "he would have feared something else; that's it, he'd been afraid of other things." "He was," O'mie spoke up. "Well, what was it, O'mie?" Dr. John queried. "Ghosts," O'mie replied gravely. "Oh, I know," he declared, as the crowd laughed.
Lettie couldn't get letters out, O'mie had said; and in the face of what she had written, she had still refused to see me, had shown how jealous-hearted and narrow-minded she could be. What could I do but leave town? So ran the little girl's sad thoughts; and then hope had its way again, for hers was always a sunny spirit. "I can only wait and see what will come.
It'll take more money to keep me still than Baronet's bank notes." "Lettie," said O'mie in an even voice, "I'm waitin' here to be settled." "Then let me alone. I'm not goin' to be forever tracked 'round like a thief. I'll fix you so you'll keep still. Who are you, anyhow?
Here the Frenchman saw his chance for revenge by conniving with the Indians to seize little O'mie playing on the prairie beyond the cabin. "The women out in Western Kansas have had the same agony of soul that Kathleen O'Meara suffered when she found her boy was stolen.
"And O'mie saved Phil," Bess Anderson urged. "Just grabbed that knife in time." "Well, I thaved mythelf," Bud piped in.
I feel sure the Plains Indians need me now more than the Osages and the Kaws." I listened silently, not caring to question why either O'mie or Jean should bind him anywhere. The former was all but lost to me already. Of the latter I did not care to think. "And before I go, I want to tell you something I know of O'mie," Le Claire went on.
And then he prayed for us, "for Philip Baronet, the strong and manly son of his noble father, John Baronet; for David and William Mead, for John and Clayton and August Anderson." We hardly knew whom he meant. Bud Anderson whispered later, "Thay, O'mie, you'll never get into kingdom come under an athumed name. Better thtick to 'O'mie."
We became so accustomed to his little hacking cough we did not notice it until there came a day to all of us when we looked back and wondered how we could have been so inattentive to the thing growing up before our eyes. O'mie was never anything but a good-hearted Irishman, and yet he had a keener insight into character and trend of events than any other boy or man I ever knew.
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