"Oh, even yet he may not be dead, Jenny," said Mac. It was as if some dawn grew in him because the dawn grew in the East: some hope within him because there was hope in the heart of a poor serving boy and a wise old man. She clutched his hand. "Tchorch was very strong," she said. And Sam came walking to the door. "Wong wantchee see you, Sir," he said. He came in without raising his eyes. Mac pressed Jenny's hand and went out. "Oh, Missus," said Sam. His heart was full. Though the river was wide the day was now bright. A strong man's voice might reach across it in a windless time. But strong men may be weak, if they have struggled. Wong stood still as Mac came up to him. Though he could see so well he was a little deaf. "What is it, Wong?" asked Mac. Even as he spoke it seemed to him that he heard a faint far-off call. "My tinkee t'at Mista Quin," said Wong as he pointed across the river. He spoke as quietly as if he had said that he thought he could see the rosy cone of Mount Baker shining in the rising sun. "You think--oh, hell!" said Mac. He smote Wong on the shoulder and the old man turned to him. There was something like a smile upon his face at last. "Ta't the boss fo' su'," he said; "my can see." Mac ran a little way up-stream, past the burnt wharves, and came to one where there was a boat. He thrust it down the shore into the water and forgot his aching shoulder, bad as it was. "Oh, poor Jenny, poor Jenny!" he said. He heard the call again. "That's Quin's call. By the Holy Mackinaw that's him," said Mac. Now that he knew, the ache came back to him. He pulled in one oar and sculled the boat from the stern with the other. And George Quin sat down on the edge of the water and waited. "If he says 'How's Jenny?' first of all, I'll recken he's worth the little klootchman," said Mac. He saw Quin rise up and stand waiting. He was torn to rags and still soaking, but his face was strong and calm. "That you, Quin?" asked Mac. "That's me," said Quin. Then he spoke aright. "How's Jenny, old man?" "All hunkey," said Mac. "But we tho't you was mimaloose." "Pete is," said Quin. He climbed into the boat stiffly. His wound smarted bitterly, but he said nothing of it. "You must have had a close call, Quin." "Tol'rable," said Quin. "Where's the little woman?" "Old Wong's lookin' after her. 'Twas him spotted you over here." "Wong's all right," said Quin. "'Tis a clean sweep of the old Moola, Mac." "That's what," said Mac. They came to the shore. When they were both on dry land Mac held out his hand. "Shake," he said. They "shook," and walked up to the road. "You and the little gal kin hev my house till you've time to look araound," said Mac. "It's not dandy, but I reckon you can make out in it." Quin nodded. "Right," he said. He stood still for a minute and looked at the open space where the Mill had been. "You and me and the boys will build the old Moola up again, Mac," said Quin.