Ch. 11Sid Connor closed the sliding panel behind him and came down the stairs to greet Marty. His step was light, well measured for a man of his maturing years. He moved with an ease that gave testament to his fitness. His face was a picture of joy when he clapped eyes on his young ward. The time-ravaged features creased into a happy grin; a misty hint of tears clouded his grey-blue eyes.
Marty rushed to greet him. The two men hugged emotionally.
‘Jeez, yer takin’ no chances, lockin’ yerself in like that, me boyo,’ said the old timer, shaking Marty vigorously.
Dixie watched their reunion as she basked in the warmth of the log fire. The crackling and spitting of the flames as they devoured the fuel was the only sound to be heard above the enthusiastic back-slapping.
‘We thought ye’d don
