"He"ll come back," said the big cowpuncher softly.
"It"s gettin" darker and darker," said Joe c.u.mberland, "and they"s a kind of ringing in my ears. Talk louder. I don"t hear you none too well."
"I said they was comin" back," said Buck Daniels.
Something like a light showed on the face of Joe c.u.mberland.
"Ay, lad," he said eagerly, "I can hear Dan"s whistlin" comin"
back--nearer and nearer. Most like he was jest playin" a joke on me, eh, Buck?"
"Most like," said Buck, brokenly.
"Ay, there it"s ringin" at the door of the house! Was that a footstep on the hall?"
"It was," said Buck. "They"s comin" down the hall!"
But far, far away he heard the whistling of Dan Barry dying among the hills.
"You let the lamp go out," said Joe c.u.mberland, "and now I can"t see nothing. Are they in the room?"
"They"re here," said Buck Daniels, "comin" towards you now."
"Dan!" cried the old man, shading his eyes and peering anxiously--"no, I can"t see a thing. Can you find me, lad?"
And Buck Daniels, softening his voice as much as he could, answered. "I can find you."
"Then gimme your hand."
Buck Daniels slipped his own large hand into the cold fingers of the dying cattleman. An expression of surpa.s.sing joy lay on the face of Joe c.u.mberland.
"Whistlin" Dan, my Dan," he murmured faintly, "I"m kind of sleepy, but before I go to sleep, to-night, I got to tell you that I forgive you for your joke--pretendin" to take Kate away."
"They"s nothin" but sleep worth while--and goin" to sleep, holdin" your hand, lad--"
Buck Daniels dropped upon his knees and stared into the wide, dead eyes.
Through the open window a sound of whistling blew to him. It was a sweet, faint music, and being so light it seemed like a chorus of singing voices among the mountains, for it was as pure and as sharp as the starlight.
Buck Daniels lifted his head to listen, but the sound faded, and the murmur of the night-wind came between.
THE END