Веснушки
Chapter XII
Theymustbethereforthestudy,andtheAngelhadriskedcrossingtheswampinsearchofhim.Orwastheresomethinginhisroomtheyneeded?ThebloodsurgedinhisearsastheroaroftheLimberlostinthewrathofastorm.
Helookedagain,andithadbeenadream.Shewasnotthere.Hadshebeen?Forhislife,FrecklescouldnottellwhetherhereallyhadseentheAngel,orwhetherhisstrainedsenseshadplayedhimthemostcrueltrickofall.Orwasitnotthekindest?Nowhecouldgowiththevisionofherlovelyfacefreshwithhim.
“ThankYouforthat,ohGod!”whisperedFreckles.“’TwasmorethankindofYouandIdon’ts’poseIoughttobewantinganythingelse;butifYoucan,oh,IwishIcouldknowbeforethisends,if’twasmemother”—Frecklescouldnotevenwhisperthewords,forhehesitatedasecondandended—“IF’TWASMEMOTHERDIDIT!”
“Freckles!Freckles!Oh,Freckles!”thevoiceoftheAngelcamecalling.Frecklesswayedforwardandwrenchedattheropeuntilitcutdeeplyintohisbody.
“Hell!”criedBlackJack.“Whoisthat?Doyouknow?”
Frecklesnodded.
JackwhippedoutarevolverandsnatchedthegagfromFreckles’mouth.
“Sayquick,orit’supwithyourightnow,andwhoeverthatiswithyou!”
“It’sthegirltheBirdWomantakeswithher,”whisperedFrecklesthroughdry,swollenlips.
“Theyain’tduehereforfivedaysyet,”saidWessner.“Wegotontothatlastweek.
