Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

ON THE TRAIL saying in a tone of deadly earnestness as he did so: “Tf you don't follow me, Ill kill you!” ** Don’t you fear, Dick; I’m with you to the finish.” He drew the latchstring of the side door and stepped within, and I not more than a couple of paces behind him. \ I may as well explain at this point that the cabin was the home of Widow Wickliffe and her daughter Meg, not quite twenty years of age. That they were unconquerable partisans of the Howard clan was proven by the fact that Wash Wickliffe, husband of the woman, was killed the previous year in a scrap with the Baker party, and the son, also named Wash, was in the county jail, under charge of murder for shooting one of the Baker men, from a blind where the youth had been lying in wait for a fortnight, at the pay of one dollar a day and “ found.” Matters with the Wickliffe family were rather trying, because of the en- forced absence of the son, but the mother was confident he would soon be set free and return to her, and, I may as well add, that she was not disap- pointed. Meg was a fine, strong girl, indus- trious and high spirited and quite comely, but with the scantiest amount of book education. It was easy for me to see, from what had already occurred, that the insane Dick Montgomery was a patient in this household, but how the surprising condition of affairs was brought about was a mystery that re- mained to be solved. The forenoon was so far along when we reached the cabin that mother and daughter were preparing the noonday meal. As my guide threw open the door, he introduced me in original fashion: ‘Mrs. and Miss Wickliffe, this is my grandiather, the Duke of Eversham, and son of George Washington and Queen Isabella of Spain! ” 4 A OF A MYSTERY. 47 They both paused in their passage across the room, and their looks of sur- prise changed to amused interest, as they nodded their heads. I bowed gravely, placed my traveling bag on a chair at the side of the door, and said: “lam happy to make your acquaint- ance, ladies.” Then I seated myself near my property, while Montgomery took a chair at the further side of the room. “You see,” explained my friend, showing for the first time something approaching pleasantry of manner, ‘the gentleman is a little off here,” tapping his forehead significantly, “and you'll have to humor him or he may become violent.” The daughter at that moment had her back toward Montgomery and was leaning over a boiling kettle, hung in the fireplace. As she looked sideways at me, our eyes met, and we smiled, she revealing a set of teeth that a princess might have envied. I liked her and we understood each other. The mother gave no attention to the remark. ‘What are you going to have tor dinner?” abruptly asked Montgomery, rising from his chair, walking to the fire, and peering into the kettles and the frying pan. The latter contained several sizzling slices of bacon, into which, at the moment, the widow broke several eggs. ‘“ That’s good,” added the crazy fel- low with a sniff of satisfaction; “I like eggs, and it is two years and a half since we have had any.” “Why, king,” replied the daughter, “vou ate four this morning for break- fast.” ‘Slave, dare you dispute me?” he demanded, glaring savagely at her; “it was winter before last that I honored you by tasting of your stale hen fruit.” He assumed a fierce pose, as if chal- lenging her to dispute him. She meek- ly replied: ~ “Very well, king, have it as you will.” comniliclooo Ss eco