Page:The unhallowed harvest (1917).djvu/393

388 him. That is why I went to see him. I told him so; we got back on the old footing, and he opened his heart to me. Yes, he asked after all of you back here. And he wanted to know about Christ Church. Do you remember how eagerly Philip Nolan, the Man without a Country, drank in, on his death bed, the news from home? Well, Mr. Farrar reminded me of Nolan. And I told him—I told him everything I knew or could think of."

"Philip, you're an angel."

Again the handkerchief went to her eyes. Westgate, paying no heed to her exclamation, hurried on:

"And he has no bitter feeling toward any one. He couldn't lay up things like that. I've already told you that he's not a man who harbors resentments. It's not in his nature. But the memory of what he passed through here still haunts him. It always will haunt him. His experience was too terrible and tragic to be soon forgotten. Yet he blames no one but himself. He says the bishop was almost like a heavenly father to him."

"The bishop is a saint!"

Lest she should make a spectacle of herself on the street, Ruth gave a final dab at her eyes, and then resolutely put her handkerchief away.

"Oh," said Westgate, "I almost forgot to tell you. I saw Barry Malleson out there, too."

"You did? Barry Malleson?"

"Yes, he rode into Apollo City on horseback while I was there. He was flannel-shirted, soft-hatted, belted and spurred, in regular cowboy style. He had come up from about fifty miles down state with Jim Crane, Mrs. Bradley's brother. Crane has a ranch down there somewhere. You know he came east to his sister's funeral; Barry met him here, and when he went out into that country he hunted Crane up. It seems they have become great friends. They came up to Apollo City to buy stock, and incidentally to call on Mr. Farrar."