Beadle's Dime Novels No. 126: Old Jupe — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

RESURRECTION OF TRUTH. 75 she’d been up to get some yerbs for a cold. Now, Miss Mary she wa’n’t in no sitiwation fer to be climbin’ up in dat loft; an’ see here! dis is w’at Clar’ foun’, arter de trile was all Ober, w’en we came to move de furniture out o’ de house. Twas a bit o’ blue paper, and Miss Mary hadn’t none like it ; an’ Clar’, she saw Miss Nettie scribblin’ on it, one day, an’ it mus’ hab blowed away an’ got los’ behin’ de bureau.” He handed Luke half a sheet of letter-paper, worn through in places, and quite black on the outside from long car- riage, “ Pve stuck to. dat through thigk an’ thin, massa, ’cause Clare She says, ‘if massa could see it he could make up his own min’.” Wait till daylight, massa; can’t make it out now.” “T can’t wait until daylight,” muttered Luke, going into his tent, where he struck a light and closely examined the worn paper. It was written over and over with the name of Mary Bryant; and in two places with an order for a piano to be Sent to the writer—evidently an attempt of some one to coun- terfeit his wife’s hand. It was like—very like Mary’s signa- ture, and yet it was not hers, He recognized it in an instant as a forgery of Annette’s. And in that same instant the past spread and yawned before him, showing him the snare which had been laid for him and into which he had fallen—the prison’ into which a loving and innocent: woman had been: betrayed —the reyenge which had been too fully consummated. He could read it all now, by the light of that scrap of paper. “Why was this not produced in court?” His hollow voice alone betrayed his excitement. “We’s didn’t fin’ it till too late. ,’Sides, Clar’s a nigger, an’ she couldn’t swear she saw Miss Annette a-writin’ it. No, Clar’ she says, ‘Miss Mary don’t car’ fer nuffin’ in dis world but fer her massa to see she’s innocent; so you mus’ take de paper to him, an’ tell him ’bout’ our ’spicions, an’ how Clar’ she wouldn’t never wear none de bandaners w’at Miss Par- cell guy her, ’kase she knew she didn’t like our missus. Now, Massa Bryant, I’s allers been sartin sure I saw Parcell makin’ dat counterfight money in de cave. An’ Miss Parcell she ain’t na better, dat’s so!” | | ' “Jupe! Jupe! be still, for heaven’s sake !” “TJ ain’t a-gwine to speak anudder word to-night, massa, comiclbooks.conn ~ ™