ht. He's from up in our
country, on the Ohio. Hardly anybody knows about him. He was always a
dandy fellow, but he married a woman that wasn't fit to drink his
coffee. She bothered the life out of him, and--well, he squared up. He
gave her to the other fellow with a double-barrelled shotgun."
When Nelia ran down to the gambling boat and found Parson Rasba there,
she enjoyed the idea. Certainly the River Prophet and the river gambler
were an interesting combination. She was not prepared to find that Buck
had taken his departure and that Parson Rasba was converting the
gambling hell into a mission boat. Least of all was she prepared when
Parson Rasba said with an unsteady voice:
"Theh's a man sick in that other boat, and likely he'd like to see
somebody."
"Oh, if there's anything I can do!" she exclaimed, as a woman does.
He led the way to the brick-red little boat, the like of which could be
found in a thousand river eddies. She followed him on board and over to
the bed. There she looked into the wan countenance and startled eyes of
Jest Prebol.
"Hit's Mister Prebol," Rasba said. "I know you have no hard feelings
against him, and I know he has none against you, Missy Carline!"
An introduction to a contrite river pirate, whom she had shot, for the
moment rendered the young woman speechless. Prebol was less at loss for
words.
"I'm glad to git to see yo'," he said, feebly. "If I'd knowed yo', I
shore would have minded my own business. I'm bad, Missy Carline, but I
ain' mean--not much. Leastwise, not about women. I reckon the boys shore
will let yo' be now. I made a mistake, an' I 'low to 'pologise to yo'."
"I was--I was scairt to death," she cried, sitting in a chair. "I was
all alone. I was afraid--the river was so big that night. I was so far
away. I should have given you fair warning. I'm sorry, too, Jest."
"Lawse!" Prebol choked. "Say hit thataway ag'in----"
"I'm sorry, too, Jest!"
"I cayn't thank yo' all enough," the man-whispered. "I've got friends
along down the riveh. I'll send word along to them, they'll shore treat
yo' nice. Treat friends of yourn nice, too. Huh! 'Pologizin' to me afteh
what I 'lowed to do!"
"We'll be good friends, Jest. The Prophet here and I are good friends,
too. Aren't we, Parson?"
"I hearn say, Missy," the Prophet said, slowly, picking his words, "I
hearn say you've a power and a heap of book learning! Books on yo' boat,
all kinds. What favoured yo' thataway?"
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