The grave was covered by an immense
flat stone bearing his name. But a flagstaff was erected near, no stouter
one stands on Beachy Head or elsewhere,--and on it was engraved:
PHIL BOLDRICK,
Buried with Municipal Honours on
the Thirtieth day of June 1883.
This to his Memory, and for the honour of
Viking and Sunburst.
"Padre," said a river-driver to Galt Roscoe after the rites were
finished, "that was a man you could trust."
"Padre," added another, "that was a man you could bank on, and draw your
interest reg'lar. He never done a mean thing, and he never pal'd with a
mean man. He wasn't for getting his teeth on edge like some in the
valley. He didn't always side with the majority, and he had a gift of
doin' things on the square."
Others spoke in similar fashion, and then Viking went back to work, and
we to our mountain cottage.
Many days passed quietly. I saw that Galt Roscoe wished to speak to me on
the subject perplexing him, but I did not help him. I knew that it would
come in good time, and the farther off it was the better.
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