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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Spirit of the Border"


"Oh, I don't know what--everything. Uncle is growing weaker every
day. Look at Mr. Young; he is only a shadow of his former self, and
this anxiety is wearing Mr. Heckewelder out. He is more concerned
than he dares admit. You needn't shake your head, for I know it.
Then those Indians who are waiting, waiting--for God only knows
what! Worse than all to me, I saw that renegade, that fearful beast
who made way with poor dear Kate!"
Nell burst into tears, and leaned sobbing on Jim's shoulder.
"Nell, I've kept my courage only because of you," replied Jim, his
voice trembling slightly.
She looked up quickly. Something in the pale face which was bent
over her told that now, if ever, was the time for a woman to forget
herself, and to cheer, to inspire those around her.
"I am a silly baby, and selfish!" she cried, freeing herself from
his hold. "Always thinking of myself." She turned away and wiped the
tears from her eyes. "Go, Jim, do you duty; I'll stand by and help
you all a woman can."
* * *
The missionaries were consulting in Heckewelder's cabin. Zeisberger
had returned that morning, and his aggressive, dominating spirit was
just what they needed in an hour like this. He raised the downcast
spirits of the ministers.
"Hold the service? I should say we will," he declared, waving his
hands.


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