Thorn choked here, steadied his voice with a resolute hem! but could only add one sentence more: 

“That’s how I found my wife.”

“Come, don’t stop thar?  I told the whole o’ mine, you do the same.  Whar did you take her? how’d it all come round?”

“Please tell us, Thorn.”

The gentler request was answered presently, very steadily, very quietly.

“I was always a soft-hearted fellow, though you wouldn’t think it now, and when that little girl asked me to keep her safe, I just did it.  I took her to a good woman whom I knew, for I hadn’t any women belonging to me, nor any place but that to put her in.  She stayed there till spring working for her keep, growing brighter, prettier, every day, and fonder of me I thought.  If I believed in witchcraft, I shouldn’t think myself such a cursed fool as I do now, but I don’t believe in it, and to this day I can’t understand how I came to do it.  To be sure I was a lonely man, without kith or kin, had never had a sweetheart in my life, or been much with women since my mother died.  Maybe that’s why I was so bewitched with Mary, for she had little ways with her that took your fancy and made you love her whether you would or no.  I found her father was an honest fellow enough, a fiddler in the some theatre, that he’d taken good care of Mary till he died, leaving precious little but advice for her to live on.  She’d tried to get work, failed, spent all she had, got sick, and was going to the devil, as the poor souls can hardly help doing with so many ready to give them a shove.  It’s no use trying to make a bad job better; so the long and short of it was, I thought she loved me; God knows I loved her, and I married her before the year was out.”

“Show us her picture; I know you’ve got one; all the fellows have, though half of ’em won’t own up.”

“I’ve only got part of one.  I once saved my little girl, and her picture once saved me.”

From an inner pocket Thorn produced a woman’s housewife, carefully untied it, though all its implements were missing but a little thimble and from one of its compartments took a flattened bullet and the remnants of a picture.

“I gave her that the first Christmas after I found her.  She wasn’t as tidy about her clothes as I liked to see, and I thought if I gave her a handy thing like this, she’d be willing to sew.  But she only made one shirt for me, and then got tired, so I keep it like an old fool, as I am.  Yes, that’s the bit of lead that would have done for me, if Mary’s likeness hadn’t been just where it was.”

“You’ll like to show her this when you go home, won’t you?” said Dick, as he took up the bullet, while Phil examined the marred picture, and Thorn poised the little thimble on his big finger, with a sigh.

“How can I, when I don’t know where she is, and camp is all the home I’ve got?”