readiness, it seemed, "it wasn't. But every little helps, Sallie; every little helps. It shows your heart wasn't half as foolish as your tongue."
She put her arm around the old man's neck and suddenly hid her face on his shoulder, crying again as if there was nothing left between the seas to console her.
"I loved him so, Uncle Boley! Oh, I loved him so!"
Uncle Boley stroked her hair, the light back in his kind blue eyes. He felt her body shake with the grief that hurt her soul.
"Well, I don't know what we can do about it now, Sallie," he said. But a smile moved his beard as he looked southward and saw a figure rise a little hill, and stand a moment as if already the backward strain of his heart was making his road harder than he could bear.
A little while; Sallie sat up again. She laid her hand tenderly on the stock of the pistol that Texas had left behind.
"I wish he had his gun, Uncle Boley."
"I reckon he does too, Sallie. But he felt he didn't have no right to it without a word from you."
"Did he—did he—buy a new one, Uncle Boley?"
"No, he never, Sallie. Just took it off down here and handed it to me and went on his way without no more gun on him than a rabbit."
