Rancho Del Muerto, and Other Stories of Adventure by Various Authors, from "Outing"
Part 19
He listened for the early morning whistles. One by one they sounded on the clear, keen air, but never the one for which he waited. As soon as it was light, he peered through the ice-covered window at the tall chimneys just beyond the “Row.” They rose grim and silent, but no smoke issued from them. The end had come. Joe knew a strike was on.
Sometime in the afternoon of that day Cynthy suffered herself to be placed on the small, white bed; but she was not willing Joe should leave her, and was quiet only when he held her feeble hand in his close grasp. No sound escaped the man's white lips. Only God and the angels watched his struggle with the powers of darkness. As night came on again, Cynthy sank into a heavy sleep, and Joe, released, took his hat and went out very softly.
He stopped after a long walk at the massive doors of a “West End” palace. He followed with downcast eyes the servant who answered his ring into a small but elegant reception-room, where he was told he might wait for the master of the house, the owner of the large manufactory where he was employed. Into the patient ear of this man, whom he had never seen before, Joe poured the story of his life. The sin, the shame, the agony of despair, his salvation through Cynthy.
“I will call my son,” said the sympathizing old gentleman as Joe rose to go; “he is one of Danvers' best physicians. He will go with you and see what can be done for the little girl.”
An hour later the two men were bending over the sick child. “She is very ill,” said the young doctor, in reply ta Joe's mute, appealing face. “This stupor may end in death, or it may result in a sleep which will bring relief. You must be brave, my friend. A few hours to-night will decide. You may hope.” Joe's weary limbs faltered beneath him. He fell upon his knees breathing a wordless prayer that the child might be spared to bless and comfort hi& lonely, aching heart; while all unseen the Angel of Life hovered over the little bed.
End of Project Gutenberg's Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King and Various