And you know I could do it, too!"
They looked fiercely at each other for a moment. Father Orin was of a
fiery spirit, and all his goodness could not always subdue it. Tommy Dye
was a ready and a good fighter, but he paused now, and silently
regarded the priest. He looked at his large, sturdy form, at his brawny
shoulders, at his deep chest and his long arms, remembering suddenly
that he had seen him roll, with his own hands, the largest logs in the
little chapel which no one else could move.
"I reckon you could," Tommy Dye finally conceded frankly.
Father Orin burst into his good-humored, chuckling laugh, and Tommy Dye
grinned, but their faces sobered instantly. The pity of it touched and
moved the priest through his sense of humor. The gambler was softened
and ashamed, he hardly knew why. With one simultaneous impulse they sent
their horses forward, and coming closer together clasped hands.
"God bless and guard you, my friend," said Father Orin. "You can't keep
me from saying that, and you can't help my praying for your safety,"
trying to smile.
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