But another shadow intervened. His mother, in turn, had loved the gorgeous sunsets of Colorado; she, too, was wont to gaze at the far-flung panorama which once delighted Nancy's eyes. And she, alas! had become a dream which would never again wake into reality. At that moment the relief of tears was imminent--and tears are intolerable to a strong man. He sprang upright in a spasm of pain, and bitter words escaped him brokenly.
The movement, no less than the few disconnected sentences, seemed to arouse Jake, who happened to be lounging against one of the pillars of the veranda--out of sight, perhaps, but certainly not out of hearing.
"Would yer keer ter hev an easy stroll around, Mistah Power?" he said instantly.
"No, thanks--why are you waiting there? Do you want to speak to me?"
This questioning might bear interpretation as the outburst of one who resented the overseer's presence; but Jake was ready with the soft answer which turneth away wrath:
"No, sir. Not exactly, that is. I was jest waitin' fur Mac. He allowed he'd be back about this time. Gosh! Here he is, crossin' the divide, an' totin' along some tony galoot I hain't seen afore."
"Tell MacGonigal, and every other person in the place, that I am not to be disturbed."
Power withdrew from the French window, and Jake nodded to the group of horses.
"You're feelin' pretty bad, I guess," he said to himself. "But thar ain't a gun in the outfit outside my locked grip, an' you cahn't find enough rope ter hang a cat, an' the only pisen in the ranch is on a sideboard, an' a skinful of that would do you good, an' this yer son of a gun can stand a lot o' black looks from you, Derry."
He heard Power sink into a chair on the inner side of the room, and sheer curiosity led him to steal along the veranda to the porch, where MacGonigal and a stranger were alighting from a two-wheeled buggy.
"Derry's jest tole me ter quit," he said in a stage whisper, jerking his left hand, as though it still possessed a thumb, in the direction of the library.
The newcomer, a tall, well-built man of middle age, smiled involuntarily at the queer gesture. As it happened, he had never before seen a veritable cowboy outside the bounds of one or other of the American circus shows which visit Europe occasionally, and Jake had donned his costliest rig for the funeral.