Gainor, reading their minds, paid no more heed to
them. He went straight across the room and took
the hand of Elizabeth.
“Dear Miss Cornish,” he said so that all
could hear, “I congratulate you for the man
you have given us in Terence Hollis.”
Vance, watching, saw the tears of pleasure brighten
the eyes of his sister.
“You are very kind,” she said. “But
now I must see Sheriff Minter and be sure that everything
is done for him.”
It seemed that the party took this as a signal for
dismissal. As she went across the room, there
were a dozen hasty adieus, and soon the guests were
streaming towards the doors.
Vance and Elizabeth and Gainor went to the sheriff.
He had been installed in a guest room. His eyes
were closed, his arms outstretched. A thick,
telltale bandage was wrapped about his breast.
And Wu Chi, skillful in such matters from a long experience,
was sliding about the room in his whispering slippers.
The sheriff did not open his eyes when Elizabeth tried
his pulse. It was faint, but steady.
He had been shot through the body and the lungs grazed,
for as he breathed there was a faint bubble of blood
that grew and swelled and burst on his lips at every
breath. But he lived, and he would live unless
there were an unnecessary change for the worse.
They went softly out of the room again. Elizabeth
was grave. Mr. Gainor took her hand.
“I think I know what people are saying now,
and what they will say hereafter. If Terry’s
father were any other than Hollis, this affair would
soon he forgotten, except as a credit to him.
But even as it is, he will live this matter down.
I want to tell you again, Miss Cornish, that you have
reason to be proud of him. He is the sort of man
I should be proud to have in my own family. Madam,
good-by. And if there is anything in which I
can be of service to you or to Terence, call on me
at any time and to any extent.”
And he went down the hall with a little swagger.
Mr. Gainor felt that he had risen admirably to a great
situation. As a matter of fact, he had.
Elizabeth turned to Vance.
“I wish you’d find Terence,” she
said, “and tell him that I’m waiting for
him in the library.”
Vance went gloomily to the room of Terry and called
him out. The boy was pale, but perfectly calm,
and he looked older, much older.
“There was a great deal of talk,” said
Vance—he must make doubly sure of Terence
now. “And they even started a little lynching
party. But we stopped all that. Gainor made
a very nice little speech about you. And now
Elizabeth is waiting for you in the library.”
Terry bit his lip.
“And she?” he asked anxiously.
“There’s nothing to worry about,”
Vance assured him.
“She’ll probably read you a curtain lecture.
But at heart she’s proud of you because of the
way Gainor talked. You can’t do anything
wrong in my sister’s eyes.”
