Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

(st TEXAS speech, but much more quiet than the inn- keeper. “Tt’s none of your business,” Mr. Bailey responded; and as De Cardac took an an- gry step toward him he added: “ Keep cool, youngman. Don’t get excited. You might make yourself sick.” Paul was close beside him and glaring angrily at him, as if about to strike the old man. But Mr. Bailey quickly spoke, and his words were of such a character as completely to divert Paul’s intention. “From the looks of you, young fellow,” he began, ‘“‘I should say you was in for a bad spell o’ fever. You're yaller as er gourd.” Then pointedly he added: “ As yaller as the company you keeps!” De Cardac started. Before he could speak the inkeeper went on: “T will just tell you this—I know some- thin’ of your companionsv. I have seen you ‘more than once with a mulatto that I think is Neil Carrington’s murderer. I’m not sure, and I ain’t never been able to catch you; but I’ve got my eyes out for that Jude, and I'll just keep my peepers on you, too.” Paul de Cardac flushed. He dared not retort. He did not know just how much the old man knew, and he thought it best to let the matter drop. He was therefore about to walk away when, changing his mind, he advanced and, looking the inn- keeper squarely in the eyes, demanded: ‘Have the Popes left Nacogdoches?” “ Well,” Mr. Bailey began, “if I said as how they had, what would it matter to you?” : “T must know!” Paul cried. “Very well, then, they have gone, yis- tiddy.” “Where did they go?” “Ym not tellin’, unless I know why you’re askin’.” “JT must see Mrs. Pope,’ Paul an- nounced. _ “ Well, you’ll not find her from anything I'll tell you,” the innkeeper growled. “I'll not have you pesterin’ that young woman. I like her! And that’s more than I will say for her husband. He’s too dog-goned opinionated like.” “You mean that you will not. tell me FEVER: 457 where they have gone?” De Cardac de- manded. “That’s about it,” Mr. Bailey coolly responded. “Tl find out!” Paul announced vio- lently. “ Well, not from me. And I don’t think nobody else knows,” Mr. Bailey snapped. Paul turned on his heel and walked back to his own home. His head was throbbing so that he could scarcely think, but he was wishing intensely that he knew where he could find Jude. But since the negro, probably desperately wounded, had disap- peared, he had been able to find no trace of him. Feverishly he mumbled to himself: “Jude would go with me. I must go. I must go and get her. I must.” Restless, uncertain, and full of longing, he wandered about his little two-room cabin, forming a hundred wild, impossible schemes and almost immediately abandon- ing them all. It was late afternoon and time to eat, but instead of making any preparations for his evening meal, he left the house. He went out to make inquiries as to where the ‘Popes had gone. No one seemed to know anything about them; but at last he found a negro girl who told him that a covered wagon containing a man and a woman had driven by at noon the previous day. They had taken the old San Antonio Road, and she believed they were bound for Baxter. Without a thought of food or anything else, Paul hurriedly saddled his horse and took the old Spanish trail. This road, usually much frequented, proved very lone- ly at night, for he rode -all through the hours of darkness without passing any one. Urged on by his impatient desires, he continued his journey without eating, until late afternoon; then he was forced from sheer exhaustion to dismount, lest he pitch from his horse. He was hot with fever, faint from lack of nourishment, and miserable from dis- appointment. He had worked himself into such a state that, had he encountered Fred, without a moment’s hesitation he would have fired upon him. conmicooolks.conn