She did not, however, hear the
heart-cry with which the beaten old man welcomed his boy.
"Sonny, sonny--oh, I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you. Bryce,
I'm whipped--I've lost your heritage. Oh, son! I'm old--I can't fight
any more. I'm blind--I can't see my enemies. I've lost your redwood
trees--even your mother's Valley of the Giants."
And he commenced to weep for the third time in fifty years. And when
the aged and helpless weep, nothing is more terrible. Bryce Cardigan
said no word, but held his father close to his great heart and laid
his cheek gently against the old man's, tenderly as a woman might.
And presently, from that silent communion of spirit, each drew
strength and comfort. As the shadows fell in John Cardigan's town,
they went home to the house on the hill.
CHAPTER VII
Shirley Sumner's eyes were still moist when George Sea Otter, in
obedience to the instructions of his youthful master, set her, the
French maid, and their hand-baggage down on the sidewalk in front of
Colonel Seth Pennington's house. The half-breed hesitated a moment,
undecided whether he would carry the hand-baggage up to the door or
leave that task for a Pennington retainer; then he noted the tear-
stains on the cheeks of his fair passenger. Instantly he took up the
hand-baggage, kicked open the iron gate, and preceded Shirley up the
cement walk to the door.
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