In
his heart was a numb, strange feeling which made him weak. He was even
blind to the fact that Black Bart at last slipped into the shadows of
the willows.
Presently something cold touched his chin. He found himself staring
into the yellow-green eyes of Black Bart, who panted from his run, and
now dropped from his mouth something which fell into Dan's lap. It
was the glove of Kate Cumberland. In the grasp of his long nervous
fingers, how small it was!; and yet the hand which had wrinkled the
leather was strong enough to hold the heart of a man. He slipped and
caught the shaggy black head of Bart between his hands. The wolf
knew--in some mysterious way he knew!
The touch of sympathy unnerved him. All his sorrow and his weakness
burst on his soul in a single wave. A big tear struck the shining nose
of the wolf.
"Bart!" he whispered. "Did you figger on plumb bustin' my heart, pal?"
To avoid those large melancholy eyes, Bart pressed his head inside of
his master's arms.
"Delilah!" whispered Dan.
After that not a sound came from the three, the horse, the dog, or
the man. Black Bart curled up at the feet of his master and seemed to
sleep, but every now and then an ear raised or an eye twitched open.
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