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Updated: May 21, 2025
The face of the newcomer was burned and swollen beyond any knowing. But in the tall, loose-jointed figure Ruth easily recognised Rafe Gadbeau. The man swayed drunkenly in the Bishop's arms for a moment, then crumpled down inert. The Bishop knelt, loosening the shirt at the neck and holding the head of what he was quick to fear was a dying man.
However, it was not much over an hour after leaving the island that they spied the lights of Pine Camp from the top of the easy rise leading out of the tamarack swamp. They met Rafe with a lantern half way down the hill.
"The crowd we were out with wouldn't be slow in a simple little piece of every-day honesty like stealing hosses!" "I'm through with any such gang after this, Rafe. How about you?" "I'm shore going to be careful about the kind of company I pick. But, Jeff, we'll have to travel away from these parts. No good company around here would welcome us.
Rogers, whom the railroad had first used as an agent and afterwards as an instrument, was now gone a broken tool. Rafe Gadbeau, who had been Rogers' assistant, was gone another broken tool. The fire had been used for its purpose. The fire was a thing of the past. Jeffrey Whiting had been put out of the way definitely, the railroad had hoped. He was now free again to make difficulties.
She had almost mentioned the two older boys of her aunt's, whom she had heard were destroyed in the Pale Lick fire. Aunt Kate did not notice, for she went on to say: "Why yes; I taught Tom and Rafe to say their prayers, and I hope they say 'em now, big as they are. And we often read the Bible. It's a great comfort, the main part of it. I never did take to the 'begats, though."
Who could tell, thought Jeffrey, what the fire might have revealed to one or both of these two as they went through it. Perhaps there were other men who had not been accounted for. Then he remembered Rafe Gadbeau. He had been with Rogers. He had once waylaid Jeffrey at Rogers' command. Might it not be that the bullet which killed Rogers was intended for Jeffrey himself!
It filled not only her own thought and life but it seemed even to take up that great void in her world which Rafe Gadbeau had filled. When she had heard his name mentioned in that sudden questioning of the Bishop, she had almost jumped from her seat to cry out to him that he must know nothing. But that was foolish, she reflected.
They wouldn't like the only references we could give, Jeff." "Oh, shore, we'll have to travel," agreed Moore. "That is, if the sheriff doesn't take up our tickets before we get started." "All this talk isn't showing us what became of Reade and Hazelton," remarked Rafe Bodson. "Let's go back under the trees and see if we can find what has become of Reade and Hazelton.
"And mon Rafe must be blackened more than the fire had blackened his poor body. And the poor Ruth must break the Holy Secret. And the good M'sieur the Bishop must break his holiest oath. All to make you innocent! "Bah! Innocent!" She flung away from him and ran up the hill. Cynthe had not said quite all that she intended to say to this young gentleman.
"Jim, you're a good deal of a sneak, aren't you?" inquired Rafe, in a voice that sounded pleasant enough, but which carried a warning in its tone. "Yes," Duff admitted. "I guess I'm a good deal of a sneak." "Get up on your feet, then. We understand one another," said Bodson. "Go ahead, if you want to, and carry out your plans for a merry evening.
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