Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

WW Pear A a A Scout for Virginia 89 young Cousin and others, who happened to survive, that they are silly.” “Do you mean they would resent it?” she demanded, her chin going up in a very regal manner. “He could scarcely change their opinions,” I mumbled. We were interrupted by a colored woman bustling in with Colonel Lewis’ servant in tow. The man bowed profoundly before Patsy and then informed me: “Please, Massa Morris, de c’unel ’mires fo’ to see yo’ at de house right erway. I ’spects it’s business fo’ de gun’ner. De c’unel mos’ ’tic’lar dat say he wants to see yo’ to once. Yas, sah Please, sah.” I dismissed him with a word of my immediate attendance on the colonel. Then I gave my hand to Patsy and said: “This ends it then. Patsy, my thoughts of you have helped me out of many tight places.” “Tf you’d only be sensible, Basdel, and stay back here where you belong. Just say the word and father will place you in his office. I’m sure of it.” “So am I sure of it, if you asked it. No, Patsy, it can’t be that way. I thank you. I may be an awful failure, but I can always fool myself with hoping for better things. If I was pushed into trade, that would end me.” “Of course you know your limitations better than I do,” she coldly said. “Thanks for the pretty moccasins. I may have a chance to wear them soon.’ “Do not wear them over the mountains,” I begged. “You were never meant for the fron- tier. Good-by.” ISA I HAD mounted my horse and was MYA} galloping back to Richfield almost be- S23 fore i had realized how definitely I had separated from her. There was so much I had intended to say. My thoughts grew very bitter as I repeatedly lived over our short and un- satisfactory meeting. *I recalled patches of the bright dreams filling my poor noodle when I was riding to meet her, and I smiled in derision at m > I had carried her in my heart for three years, and because daily I had paid my devotion to her I had been imbecile enough to image she was thinking of me in some such persistent way. Patsy Dale was admired by many men. Her days had been filled with compliments and flattery. My face burned as though a whip had been laid across it when I recalled her frank scepti- cism of my ability to support a wife. I had a rifle. Several times she had thrust that ironical reminder at me, which meant I had nothing else. I came to her carrying my rifle. It was unfair to tie a girl with a promise when the wooer had only his rifle. Thedamnable repetition kept crawling through my mind, She wanted to impress the fact of my poverty upon me. I worked up quite a fine bit of anger against Patsy. I even told myself that had I come back with profits derived from peddling rum to the Indians, I might have found her more susceptible to my approach. . Altogether I made rather a wicked game of viewing the poor girl in an unsavory light. With a final effort I declared half-aloud that she was not worth a serious man’s devotion. And it got me nowhere. For after all, the re- membrance of her as she stood there, with her slim white neck and the mass of blue-black hair towering above the upturned face, told me she must ever fill my thoughts. I reached Richfield early in the evening. Governor Dunmore had retired against .an early start for Williamsburg. It was Colonel Lewis’ wish that I ride without delay to Charles Lewis’ place at Staunton, something better than eighty miles, and confer with him over the situation on the frontier. “My brother has recently received intel- ligences from Fort Pitt which state the Indians are anxious for peace,” explained the colonel. “A parcel of lies,” I promptly denounced. “So say I. But the written statements are very plausible. They have made an impression on Charles. It is very important that he know the truth. It will be much better for you to talk with him than for me to try and send him your statements in writing. Haste is necessary. Leave your horse and take one of mine.” “Have your man bring out the horse. I will start now.” “A prompt response,” he said. “And most pleasing. But tomorrow early will do. Spend the night here.” “T need “Tonight. Now,” action.” He gave me a sharp glance, then called his man and gave the order. While my saddle was being shifted he informed me: I insisted. “Ericus Dale and John Ward paid us a call... Dale and his Excellency had a rare bout of words. The fellow Ward didn’t say much, but he agreed to everything Dale said.” “T know about the way Dale talked,” I gloomily said. “I talked with him before he came here. He thinks that Virginia is made up of fools, that only Pennsylvania knows how to handle the Indians.” I swung into the saddle and the colonel kindly said— “T hope this business of mine isn’t taking you away from something more pleasant.” “T thank you, colonel, but I am quite free. All I ask is action and an early return to the frontier.” I knew the colonel knew the truth. He knew I had paid my respects to the girl and had been dismissed. He stretched out a hand in silence (EO PMIG OOO KS (E@)