For each he had his own, particular form of greeting. "No,
boys," he said, when the group became more orderly, "I ain't
a-goin' to say a word 'till I see Mrs. Payson first."
Polly had ridden at once to the house to tell the joyful news of
Slim's return to Echo, who hurried at once to the boys about the
wagon.
Parenthesis spied her riding down the trail. "She's comin' now,"
he cried.
"Boys," requested Slim, "would you mind herdin' off yonder a
bit?"
The cow-punchers strolled over to the cottonwood, leaving Echo to
meet Slim alone.
"Where is he?" was Echo's tearful greeting.
"Well, ma'am, there's a man out yonder that's been through fire
and brimstone for you!"
Echo stared over the prairies. Then Jack was still searching for
Dick. Slim had failed to find him. "Out yonder," she moaned,
wringing her hands.
"Wait a minute," says Slim. "He says to me, says he: 'Break
it to her, Slim; tell her gentle--an' if she wants me--call, and
I'll come.' Ma'am, Dick Lane is dead."
Echo shuddered. "Dead," she repeated. "By his--"
"No, no," interrupted Slim; "not that way. Indians. Jack found
Dick, an' the Indians found 'em both. When I come up with the
soldiers from Fort Grant they was havin' the derndest mixup with
Indians you ever did see. Both men were bad hurted, an'
Dick--well, ma'am--I leaned over him jest in time to hear him
say: 'Tell her I know she was true--and not to mind.' Then he
gave a little ketch of his breath, and dropped back into my
arms.
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