Jones
was not satisfied. They passed apart, muttering, exclaiming,
wondering.
An hour later, Tallwoods mansion house was no more. The last of
cornice and pillar and corner post and beam had fallen into a
smoldering mass. In front of one long window a part of the heavy
brick foundation remained. Some bent and warped iron bars appeared
across a window.
Unable to do anything, these who had witnessed such scenes, scarce
found it possible to depart. They stood about, whispering, or
remaining silent, some regarding the smouldering ruin. Once in a
while a head was turned over shoulder toward a bowed form which sat
close under a sheltering tree upon the lawn.
"He is taking it mighty hard," said this or that neighbor. "Lost
nigh about everything he had in the world." But still his bowed
form, stern in its sentinelship, guarded the something concealed
behind the shadows. And still they dared not go closer.
So, while Dunwody was taking that which had come to him, as human
beings must, the gray of the dawn crawled up, up over the eastern
edge of this little Ozark Valley.
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