One day in June the stage was robbed of its mail
down in Tazewell County. Your letter was probably on that stage."
"Harry's death was the last blow. I came out here to get away from my
troubles--perhaps to die. I didn't care."
"Harry is not dead," said Samson.
Her right hand touched her forehead; her lips fell apart; her eyes took
on a look of tragic earnestness.
"Not dead!" she whispered.
"He is alive and well."
Bim staggered toward him and fell to her knees and lay crouched upon the
ground, in the dusky twilight, shaking and choked with sobs, and with
tears streaming from her eyes but she was almost as silent as the shadow
of the coming night. She looked like one searching in the dust for
something very precious. The strong heart of Samson was touched by the
sorrowful look of her so that he could not speak.
Soon he was able to say in a low, trembling voice:
"In every letter he tells of his love for you. That article in the paper
was a cruel mistake."
After a little silence Bim rose from the ground.
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