Who shall say what was
passing in his mind, so long absorbed in itself, and now, if one could
judge by his face, absorbed at last in this child?
When he came out of the room he spoke to the doctor in a new voice.
"If she wants anything--anything, you understan'--you get it--see?"
"Certainly."
"And look ye here; I shall be stayin' at my old _adobe_, but if
the others want fer anything, you understan', get it--see?"
"Certainly, Mr. Spooner. I shall not fail to call on you, sir, because
we want many things."
"That's all right; but," his tone grew hard and sharp, "if--if she--
dies, this contrack is broke. The rest kin die too; the sooner the
better."
"But she won't die, Mr. Spooner," said the young doctor, cheerfully.
"I feel in my bones, sir, that Sissy Leadham won't die."
And it may be added here that she didn't.
* * * * *
At the ranch-house that night Ajax and I sat up, watching, waiting,
praying for the rain that would wash the diphtheria from Paradise and
despair from our hearts. The south-east wind sang louder and louder in
the cotton woods by the creek; the parched live oaks crackled with
fear that the gathering clouds should roll by, the willows shivered
and bowed themselves low in supplication.
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