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The door closed； and the boy heard the same muffled hoofs and voices
die away towards the front。 He began to dress himself mechanically；
almost vacantly； yet conscious always of a vague undercurrent of thrilling
excitement。 When he had finished he waited almost breathlessly； feeling
the same beating of his heart that he had felt when he was following the
vanished train the day before。 At last he could stand the suspense no
longer； and opened the door。 Everything was still in the motionless
caravan； except it struck him oddly even thenthe unconcerned prattling
voice of Susy from one of the nearer wagons。 Perhaps a sudden feeling
that this was something that concerned HER； perhaps an irresistible
impulse overcame him； but the next moment he had leaped to the ground；
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faced about； and was running feverishly to the front。
The first thing that met his eyes was the helpless and desolate bulk of
one of the Silsbee wagons a hundred rods away； bereft of oxen and pole；
standing alone and motionless against the dazzling sky！ Near it was the
broken frame of another wagon； its fore wheels and axles gone； pitched
forward on its knees like an ox under the butcher's sledge。 Not far away
there were the burnt and blackened ruins of a third； around which the
whole party on foot and horseback seemed to be gathered。 As the boy
ran violently on； the group opened to make way for two men carrying
some helpless but awful object between them。 A terrible instinct made
Clarence swerve from it in his headlong course； but he was at the same
moment discovered by the others； and a cry arose of 〃Go back！〃 〃Stop！〃
〃Keep him back！〃 Heeding it no more than the wind that whistled by
him； Clarence made directly for the foremost wagonthe one in which he
and Susy had played。 A powerful hand caught his shoulder； it was Mr。
Peyton's。
〃Mrs。 Silsbee's wagon；〃 said the boy； with white lips； pointing to it。
〃Where is she？〃
〃She's missing；〃 said Peyton； 〃and one otherthe rest are dead。〃
〃She must be there；〃 said the boy； struggling； and pointing to the
wagon； 〃let me go。〃
〃Clarence；〃 said Peyton sternly； accenting his grasp upon the boy's arm；
〃be a man！ Look around you。 Try and tell us who these are。〃
There seemed to be one or two heaps of old clothes lying on the
ground； and further on； where the men at a command from Peyton had laid
down their burden； another。 In those ragged； dusty heaps of clothes； from
which all the majesty of life seemed to have been ruthlessly stamped out；
only what was ignoble and grotesque appeared to be left。 There was
nothing terrible in this。 The boy moved slowly towards them； and；
incredible even to himself； the overpowering fear of them that a moment
before had overcome him left him as suddenly。 He walked from the one
to the other； recognizing them by certain marks and signs； and mentioning
name after name。 The groups gazed at him curiously； he was conscious
that he scarcely understood himself； still less the same quiet purpose that
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made him turn towards the furthest wagon。
〃There's nothing there；〃 said Peyton； 〃we've searched it。〃 But the
boy； without replying； continued his way； and the crowd followed him。
The deserted wagon； more rude； disorderly； and slovenly than it had
ever seemed to him before； was now heaped and tumbled with broken
bones； cans； scattered provisions； pots； pans； blankets； and clothing in the
foul confusion of a dust…heap。 But in this heterogeneous mingling the
boy's quick eye caught sight of a draggled edge of calico。
〃That's Mrs。 Silsbee's dress！〃 he cried； and leapt into the wagon。
At first the men stared at each other； but an instant later a dozen hands
were helping him； nervously digging and clearing away the rubbish。
Then one man uttered a sudden cry； and fell back with frantic but furious
eyes uplifted against the pitiless； smiling sky above him。
〃Great God！ look here！〃
It was the yellowish； waxen face of Mrs。 Silsbee that had been
uncovered。 But to the fancy of the boy it had changed； the old familiar
lines of worry； care； and querulousness had given way to a look of remote
peace and statue…like repose。 He had often vexed her in her aggressive
life； he was touched with remorse at her cold； passionless apathy now； and
pressed timidly forward。 Even as he did so； the man； with a quick but
warning gesture； hurriedly threw his handkerchief over the matted locks；
as if to shut out something awful from his view。 Clarence felt himself
drawn back； but not before the white lips of a bystander had whispered a
single word
〃Scalped； too！ by God！〃
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CHAPTER VI
Then followed days and weeks that seemed to Clarence as a dream。
At first； an interval of hushed and awed restraint when he and Susy were
kept apart； a strange and artificial interest taken little note of by him； but
afterwards remembered when others had forgotten it； the burial of Mrs。
Silsbee beneath a cairn of stones； with some ceremonies that； simple
though they were； seemed to usurp the sacred rights of grief from him and
Susy； and leave them cold and frightened； days of frequent and incoherent
childish outbursts from Susy； growing fainter and rarer as time went on；
until they ceased； he knew not when； the haunting by night of that
morning vision of the three or four heaps of ragged clothes on the ground
and a half regret that he had not examined them more closely； a
recollection of the awful loneliness and desolation of the broken and
abandoned wagon left behind on its knees as if praying mutely when the
train went on and left it； the trundling behind of the fateful wagon in
which Mrs。 Silsbee's body had been found； superstitiously shunne