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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

Then she seemed to understand, and with a
moan she covered her face with her hands and sank weeping in a
heap at the foot of the Pine.
The forgotten pistol dropped, full cocked to the soft earth, and
Hale with bewildered eyes went slowly to her.
"Don't cry,"--he said gently, starting to call her name. "Don't
cry," he repeated, and he waited helplessly.
"He's dead. Dave was shot--out--West," she sobbed. "I told him I
was coming back. He gave me his horse. Oh, how could you?"
"Why did you come back?" he asked, and she shrank as though he had
struck her--but her sobs stopped and she rose to her feet.
"Wait," she said, and she turned from him to wipe her eyes with
her handerchief. Then she faced him.
"When dad died, I learned everything. You made him swear never to
tell me and he kept his word until he was on his death-bed. YOU
did everything for me. It was YOUR money. YOU gave me back the old
cabin in the Cove. It was always you, you, YOU, and there was
never anybody else but you." She stopped for Hale's face was as
though graven from stone.
"And you came back to tell me that?"
"Yes.


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