The Award of Justice Part 55

Houston returned to the sick-room, leaving Mr. Cameron and Lyle in their new-found joy. Lyle told him briefly the story of her life, his eyes growing stern with indignation as he listened to the wrongs she had endured, then luminous with tenderness, as she told of Jack's affectionate care for her.

"Call me 'papa' my child, as you used to in the days of your babyhood," he said, kissing her, as they rose to return to Guy's room, "you never even then, would call Mrs. Cameron or myself anything but 'mamma' and 'papa,' and now you shall be as our own child!"

Together they watched beside the sick-bed until the morning sun touched the mountain peaks with glory, but there came no relief to the sufferer, now moaning and tossing in delirium.

Eastward, across the mountain ranges, Morton Rutherford was speeding swiftly, scarcely heeding in his sorrow and anxiety, the grandeur and beauty through which he was pa.s.sing; while from Chicago, the sweet-faced mother was hastening westward, all unconscious that she was being swiftly and surely borne to the answer of her prayers,--that in that distant western country to which she was journeying, her son lay calling her in his fever and delirium.

She had started in response to a dispatch from Morton Rutherford, at Silver City:

"Mr. Cameron and Everard Houston safe and well, but wish you to come out immediately. Wire where I will meet you in St. Paul. Will explain when I see you.

"Morton Rutherford."

The mining camp that morning, presented a strange scene of idleness and desolation. Many of the mines were in ruins, while the remainder were shut down.

They would remain shut down for an indefinite period, Houston told the men who had gathered about the house for information. The officers of the company, he further stated, had been arrested and their property would soon be seized, hence it would be impossible to state when the mines would be reopened. It was probable that with the next spring, an entirely new corporation would be organized, and the mining and milling plant rebuilt, and operated on a much more extensive scale than before; and should this be the case, he would then and there vouch that those of his men who had proven themselves trustworthy and honorable, would be certain of work, should they desire it, in the newly opened mines.

The men knew of Jack's condition, and while not a sound was made that would disturb the sufferer, the better cla.s.s swung their hats high in the air, in token of applause, and then walked silently away.

It was found in the succeeding days that several miners had lost their lives in the explosions of the Yankee Boy mine; a few were so far underground that their doom was inevitable, while others, whom Houston had warned, instead of following his instructions, had endeavored to escape through the shafts, and had discovered too late that they had only rushed on to certain death.

Maverick, the tool by which all this destruction had been wrought, after his deadly work was done, overcome by his wretched cowardice, remained concealed until a late hour; then creeping from his hiding place to gloat over the havoc and ruin he had wrought, he suddenly found his triumph was short. Under the shelter of a few boards, temporarily erected, he found the ghastly remains of his companion and director in crime. Shivering and trembling with fear, he crept up the road till within sight of the house, arriving just in time to see Houston,--whom he supposed crushed and buried within the mine,--presenting Lyle to Mr.

Cameron. He lingered long enough to see her clasped in his arms, then skulked back into the shadow, retreating down the road, gnashing his teeth with rage and disappointment. The following day search was made for him, under instructions from Mr. Cameron and Houston, who offered a large reward for him, living or dead. His body was found in an old, abandoned shaft on the mountain side, riddled with bullets.

The vengeance of the miners, desperate from the loss of homes and employment, had overtaken him first. He was buried hastily and with little ceremony, his two sons having already taken themselves to parts unknown, fearful lest the penalty of their father's crimes might be inflicted upon them, and his fate become theirs also. A day or two later, Mrs. Maverick, who had been prostrated by the shock of the explosions and the succeeding events, died from a sudden paralysis, her feeble mind having first been cheered and soothed by the a.s.surance from Mr. Cameron of his forgiveness for the small share which she had taken in the withholding Lyle from her true friends and home. She was given a decent burial in the miners' little cemetery at the Y, and the house which for so many years had been called by their name, knew the Mavericks no more.

Kind hands laid little Bull-dog under the murmuring pines on the mountain side, near Morgan's last resting place, but in the hearts, of Houston and his friends, his memory could never grow dim.

The small community of miners suddenly vanished, the deserted quarters, with their blackened ruins, seeming little like the busy camp of but a few days before, resounding with their songs and jests.

Only in the house nestling at the foot of the mountain there were no signs of desertion. It was crowded to overflowing, and within its walls, during those next succeeding days, what combats were waged, between hope and fear, joy and despair, life and death!

CHAPTER XLVIII.

Five days had pa.s.sed, days of raging fever and delirium so violent that already the powerful frame seemed nearly exhausted; the sufferer calling almost incessantly for the loved ones of his old home, but oftenest for his mother. Some faint glimmer of recognition must occasionally have reached those darkened chambers of the brain, since when attended by Mr. Cameron, Houston or Lyle, he rested more quietly, though never calling Lyle by her own name, but always by that of his sister, Edna.

The fever had subsided, and he was now rapidly pa.s.sing into a death-like stupor, hovering between life and death, unconscious of skilled physicians and trained nurses that came and went, unconscious of loving friends bending above him, their prayers and efforts combined with the skill of the former, in the terrible combat against the mighty foe.

The physicians watching by the bedside, shook their heads, as they felt the pulse, fluttering more and more faintly.

"He is sinking, failing rapidly," they said, "to-night will be the crisis, the turning point; unless there is a change then for the better, he will never see the dawning of another day."

To Mrs. Cameron, journeying westward with Morton Rutherford, the moments had seemed like hours, the hours like days, since learning for whose sake had come the summons to that distant country. Only the speed of the lightning could have satisfied the heart of the mother hastening to her long-lost son.

They had been kept informed along the route of Guy's condition, and now, upon their arrival at Silver City, on the noon train, they found a special car awaiting them, to convey them at once to the Y, which had been ordered by telegraphic dispatch from Mr. Cameron.

The watchers by the bedside heard the sound of swiftly approaching wheels; Mr. Cameron and Houston stepped quickly out to greet the sweet-faced woman hastening toward the house on the arm of Morton Rutherford.

"Am I in time? Is our boy still living?" were her first words, as her husband met her with outstretched arms, his face working with deep emotion.

"Just in time, thank G.o.d!" was the broken reply.

"Oh, Walter, is there no hope?" she queried, understanding his words only too well.

"I must not deceive you, Marjorie, there is the barest possibility that he may live, no more."

"He must live, and he will," replied the mother, in tones that reminded both Houston and Morton Rutherford wonderfully of Lyle.

Turning toward Houston, Mrs. Cameron greeted him affectionately, and gently touching the wounded arm, exclaimed:

"My poor, dear boy, what a terrible risk you have run!"

To which he replied, "I would go through it all again, Aunt Marjorie, for the joy I believe it will bring you and yours."

A few moments later, Mr. Cameron led his wife into the sick-room. Lyle had already left the room, and there remained only Leslie Gladden, sitting quietly near the foot of the bed, and the nurse, who respectfully withdrew from his place beside the patient, as Mrs.

Cameron approached.

Calmly, though through fast-falling tears, the mother gazed for a moment upon her son; then dropping upon her knees beside the bed, she slipped one arm underneath the pillows, and gently drew the wounded head upon her own breast, tenderly kissing the brow and cheeks; then taking his hand within her own, she stroked and caressed it, meanwhile crooning over him in low, murmuring tones, as though he had been an infant.

There were no dry eyes in that little room, not excepting even the nurse, while from the door-way of the adjoining room, Morton Rutherford, Lyle and Everard Houston watched the scene with hearts too full for utterance. Something in that gentle touch must have carried the troubled mind of the sufferer back to the days of his childhood; gradually the faint moaning ceased, the drawn, tense features relaxed, and a sweet, child-like smile stole over his face now a.s.suming a death-like pallor.

For hours the mother knelt there, her husband by her side, Everard and Leslie standing near, while in the background, in the dim light, was Lyle with Morton Rutherford.

At last, Mr. Cameron, bending over his wife, entreated her to take a few moments' rest and a little food. She hesitated, but Everard spoke:

"You must take some refreshment, Aunt Marjorie, you have had no food for hours; Leslie and I will watch here, and if there should be the slightest change, I will call you."

At the name of Leslie, Mrs. Cameron looked up, with a sweet, motherly smile, into the beautiful but tear-stained face beside her, and gently withdrawing from the bedside, she turned and clasped Miss Gladden in her arms, saying:

"My dear Leslie, I did not think we would meet for the first time under such circ.u.mstances as these, but I am more than glad to find you here. Everard has always been, and still is as our own son, and I welcome you, my dear, as a daughter."

On entering the dining-room, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron found a most tempting luncheon prepared for them, but no one in the room, Lyle having judged they would prefer to be by themselves for awhile.

As Mrs. Cameron, having partaken of some slight refreshment, was preparing to return to the sick-room, her husband said:

"Wait a moment, my dear; there is another joy in store for you, Marjorie, in that, through Everard's coming out into this country, we have received back from the dead, as it were, not only our son, but also a daughter. I want you to meet her now, my dear, so prepare yourself for a great surprise, and perhaps, something of a shock."

"I do not understand you, dear," replied Mrs. Cameron, looking bewildered, "you certainly do not refer to Leslie, I have met her."

"No, my love, Leslie is a beautiful girl, and will be to us a lovely daughter, but I refer to a daughter of our own flesh and blood."

Stepping to an adjoining room, Mr. Cameron called in a low tone, "Lyle, my dear," returning immediately to his wife's side to support her in case the shock should prove too much in her present agitated condition.

Lyle glided into the room, slowly approaching Mrs. Cameron, who sat speechless, pale as death, but controlling herself by a visible effort.