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Cooke, Grace MacGowan, 1863-1944

"The Power and the Glory"

Noiselessly she arose, and replaced her outer
wear, thinking to slip away without disturbing Roxy. But when she
returned softly to the interior, after laving face and hands out at the
wash-basin, and ordering her abundant hair, she found the little woman
up and clad, slicing bacon and making coffee of generous strength from
their scanty store.
"No--why, the idea!" cried Roxy. "Of course, you wasn't a-goin' on from
no house o' mine 'thout no breakfast. Why, I say!"
Johnnie's throat swelled at the humble kindness. They ate, thanked Roxy
and her man Zack in the simple uneffusive mountain fashion, and started
away in the twilight of dawn. The big road was barely reached, when they
heard steps coming after them in the dusk, and a breathless voice
calling in a whisper, "Johnnie! Johnnie!"
The two turned and waited till Roxy came up.
"I--ye dropped this on the floor," the woman said, fumbling in her
pocket and bringing out a bit of paper. "I didn't know as it was of any
value--and then again I didn't know but what it might be. Johnnie--" she
broke off and stood peering hesitatingly into the gloom toward the
girl's shining face.
With a quick touch of the arm Johnnie signed to Pros to move on. As he
swung out of earshot, the bulging light eyes, so like Mandy's, were
suddenly dimmed by a rush of tears.
"I reckon he'd beat me ef he knowed I told," Roxy gasped.


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