The one a dull, listless man, mechanically
forcing a tired, overworked body to action, and the other a self-
accused murderer.
"I am responsible for the whole thing," he told himself many times
a day. "I always humored Jimmy. I always took the muddy side of
the road, and the big end of the log, and the hard part of the
work, and filled his traps wi' rats from my own; why in God's name
did I let the Deil o' stubbornness in me drive him to his death.
noo? Why didna I let him have the Black Bass? Why didna I make him
come home and put on dry clothes? I killed him, juist as sure as if
I'd taken an ax and broken his heid."
Through every minute of the exposure of winter outdoors and the
torment of it inside, Dannie tortured himself. Of Mary he seldom
thought at all. She was safe with her sister, and although Dannie
did not know when or how it happened, he awoke one day to the
realization that he had renounced her. He had killed Jimmy; he
could not take his wife and his farm. And Dannie was so numb with
long-suffering, that he did not much care. There come times when
troubles pile so deep that the edge of human feeling is dulled.
He would take care of Mary, yes, she was as much Jimmy's as his
farm, but he did not want her for himself now. If he had to kill
his only friend, he would not complete his downfall by trying to
win his wife. So through that winter Mary got very little
consideration in the remorseful soul of Dannie, and Jimmy grew, as
the dead grow, by leaps and bounds, until by spring Dannie had him
well-nigh canonized.
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