The only ray of light that had pierced her troubled heart--and
this only flashed for a brief moment--was the glimpse she had had
of Jack's mind when he and her father first met. The boy had
called to inquire after his Chief's health and for any
instructions he might wish to give, when MacFarlane, hearing the
young hero's voice in the hall below, hurried down to greet him.
Ruth was leaning over the banister at the time and saw all that
passed. Once within reach MacFarlane strode up to Jack, and with
the look on his face of a man who had at last found the son he had
been hunting for all his life, laid his hand on the lad's
shoulder.
"I think we understand each other, Breen,--don't we?" he said
simply, his voice breaking.
"I think so, sir," answered Jack, his own eyes aglow, as their
hands met.
Nothing else had followed. There was no outburst. Both were men;
in the broadest and strongest sense each had weighed the other.
The eyes and the quivering lips and the lingering hand-clasp told
the rest. A sudden light broke in on Ruth.
Pages:
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348