In Search of an Unknown Race — page 260: what you’re looking at

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

246 VAN. ‘‘T do wish for your dead mother’s sake, Flores, that you would repent of your intended sin and lead a bet- ter life hereafter.” Between repentance and being sorry for one’s wrong doing there is a considerable difference. Yet however this might have been in the case of Flores, it is certain that his eyes suddenly filled with unaccustomed tears, and in a rather broken voice he answered : ‘* You are a thousand times better than I, Van Briscoe. I will try and do differently.” And these were the last words Van ever heard him speak. They silently shook hands and on the follow- ing morning it was rumored that Don Carlos had settled his bills and departed from the city without the formality of bidding adieu to his large circle of regretful friends and acquaintances. Beyond the fact that he was known to have bought a ticket to Chicago, his destination re- mained a mystery as it does to this day. And so passes the misguided young man from my story. ‘‘¢But somehow I cannot make it all seem true, Cousin Van,” said Ninada, who, more beautiful than ever, sat beside Van who held both her hands in his own. Mr. Richard Briscoe and Patty Peterson, who had listened to Van’s story, had stolen from the room to com- pare notes concerning it, leaving the two young people alone in the old-fashioned parlor of the Peterson home- stead, a few miles outside of Boston. ‘‘T find myself troubled the same way, Ninada,” laughed the young man, but his voice was tremulous (EOMMIELOOO KS.