Part 15 (1/2)

Terrill,” he muttered.

d.i.c.k walked on entirely unconscious of how close he had been to death, with his friend as his murderer.

So interested had the two men been in their conversation, that neither had noticed Buck McKee hiding behind the hedge, listening to their talk, and covering Jack Payson, when he was following d.i.c.k with his hand on his revolver. McKee heard Payson's e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, and smiled grimly.

Jack's absence had aroused Jim Allen, who hurried out on the porch, storming. ”Say, Jack, what do you mean by putting the brakes on this yere weddin'?”

”Jim--say, Jim! I--want you to do something for me,” cried Jack, as he rushed toward his future father-in-law, greatly excited.

”Sure,” answered Allen heartily.

”Stand here at this door during the ceremony, and no matter what happens don't let any one in.”

”But--” interrupted Allen.

”Don't ask me to explain,” blurted Jack. ”Echo's happiness is at stake.”

”That settles it--I've not let any one spile her happiness yet, an' I won't in the few minutes that are left while I'm still her main protector. n.o.body gets in.”

”Remember--no one--no matter who it is,” emphasized Jack, as he darted into the house.

Jim Allen lighted his pipe. ”Now, what's eatin' him?” he muttered to himself. Then, ”They're off!” he cried, looking through the window.

The Reverend Samuel Price began to drone the marriage-service.

It is the little things in life that count, after all. Men will work themselves into hysteria over the buzzing of a fly, and yet plan a battle-s.h.i.+p in a boiler-shop. A city full of people will at one time become panic-stricken over the burning of a rubbish-heap, and at another camp out in the ruins of fire-swept homes, treating their miseries as a huge joke.

Philosophers write learnedly of cause and effect. In chemistry certain combinations give certain results. But no man can say: ”I will do thus and so, this and that will follow.” All things are possible, but few things are probable.

d.i.c.k Lane had planned to s.h.i.+eld Echo by writing to Jack Payson, letting him break the news of his return. Fate would have it that she would not know until too late of his escape. A letter sent directly to her might have prevented much unhappiness and many heartaches. Not till months later, when happiness had returned, did Jack realize that his one great mistake was made by not telling Echo of d.i.c.k's rescue.

Both d.i.c.k and Echo might have had a change of heart when they met again. Echo was young. d.i.c.k had wandered far. Both had lost touch with common interests. Jack Payson had entered her life as a factor.

He was eager and impetuous; d.i.c.k was settled and world-worn by hards.h.i.+p and much physical suffering. Now Jack was at the altar racked with mental torture, while d.i.c.k waited in the garden for his traitorous friend. The innocent cause of the tragedy was sweetly and calmly replying to the questions of the marriage-ritual, while Jack was looking, as Allen said to himself, ”darned squeamish.”

”According to these words, it is the will of G.o.d that nothing shall sever the marriage-bond,” were the words that fell upon Allen's ears as he stooped to look in the window at the wedding-party.

”The Sky Pilot's taking a long time to make the hitch. Darned if I couldn't hitch up a twenty-mule team in the time that he's takin' to get them two to the pole,” said Allen, speaking to himself.

d.i.c.k had grown impatient at Jack's absence, and wandered back from the garden to the front of the house. Spying Allen, he greeted him with ”h.e.l.lo, Uncle Jim.”

”That's my name,” answered Allen suspiciously. ”But I ain't uncle to every stranger that comes along.”

”I'm no stranger,” laughed d.i.c.k. ”You know me.”

”Do I?” replied Allen, unconvinced. ”Who are you?”

”The poor orphan you took from an asylum and made a man of--d.i.c.k Lane.”

”d.i.c.k Lane!” repeated the astonished ranchman. ”Come back from the dead!”

”No, I ain't dead yet,” answered d.i.c.k, holding out his hand, which Allen gingerly grasped, as if he expected to find it thin air. ”I wasn't killed. I have been in the hospital for a long time. I wrote Jack--he knows.”