Geoffrey's Victory by Mrs Georgie Sheldon — page 174: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

170 JACK’S STORY CONTINUED. “}) took the name of ‘John Landers,’ and tried to make the boy call himself ‘George Landers’; but he didn’t know enough to learn it, and seemed to have forgotten how to talk at all; so I hadn’t much to fear from his let- tin’ anything out. We lived here for almost five years more, and I got ahead a little every season. But, sir, the horror of that dreadful deed never left me for a minute. ‘My Margery’s dead face was always before me, and my heart heavy with its load of guilt and loneliness. If ever aman paid for an evil deed in torment, I paid for mine a hundred times over. “But the worst of my troubles was yet to come. The world’s a small place to hide in when a man _ has commit- ted acrime. I wentto town one day on business, and stepped into the post-ofice—which was in the same buildin’ with the railway station—to send a letter for the woman at home, when I heard two men talking in a low tone of voice, and one of them spoke the name of Jack Henly. “My blood ran cold in a minute. My back was to them, for I was payin’ for the postage on the letter, and they hadn’t seemed to notice me. I didn’t hurry, fright- ened as I felt, but took my own time and listened. “It was me they were after, sure enough; they had tracked me all the way from Texas tothat place, but, somehow, couldn’t get any farther. Nobody had heard of aman named Jack Henly, and noone answered to their description. It was no wonder, for I was greatly changed, looking like an cold man, for my grief had whitened iny hair, wrinkled my face, and bent my form. I walked straight by them on goin’ out of the office, but they never suspected me. I’d got another scare, though, that I couldn’t get over, and made up my mind that I’d quit the country. SolIsold off my stock, drew what money I’d laid by in the bank—my farm I couldn’t sell at such short notice—shut up my huose, and, takin’ the boy, went to New York, intendin’ to take passage ina vessel goin’ to Australia, where I meant to go to sheep raisin’ again, since I had done so well in Texas, while I thought J needn’t fear any man in that country. I took passage, and bought a comfortable outfit for both of us, but the vessel wan’t to sail for a week, sol kep’ very quiet in a room I’d hired on a by-street, fearin’ those men might still be lookin’ me up. “But I let the boy play out, for he pined in the hcuse, while I sat by a window to watch that he did not get out comicloookks.€