"Rescue the Perishin'; Care for the Dyin'."
The beautiful voice did not falter. Suddenly the powerful lungs of the fisherman gathered in one long, last breath, and when it came forth to meet Tessibel's song, the broad shoulders dropped back, the chest receded, the smile faded from the gray eyes--and Daddy Skinner was dead.
He had died listening to those appealing, melodious words, "Rescue the Perishin'; Care for the Dyin'." That sudden collapsing change in the gaunt figure seemed to freeze the very song on Tessibel's lips. Her voice trailed to a limp wail, as if an icy hand had caught her throat. Silence succeeded silence. Even the storm seemed for an instant to still its raging roar, then Pete threw back his head and howled his grief. As his resonant cries filled the shack and mingled with the turmoil of the elements, Tess clung to the dog, staring with horrified eyes at the huge beloved form crushed and crumpled upon the cot. Death had come and gone. The mystery in the shadowy rafters had taken Daddy Skinner away.
The dwarf raised his head and looked at Tess. Slowly he leaned over and pressed his lips to Orn Skinner's brow, and as he rose, he lifted the girl's rigid arm from the tawny back and seized the dog by the collar to quiet him.
Then came one of those unthinkable, weird cries, a nightmarish cry from the girl's throat, and--as God tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb, so in Divine pity he covered Tess of the Storm Country with mental oblivion.