The Argosy for May — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

THE CRIMSON I saw at last that there was something _more than mere boasting in his words. The trapper was in earnest. “Tell me about it,” I suggested, still in doubt. ‘T went to Morris,’ he began, nothing loath, ‘an’ I told him the story. When I got to your name, up he flies in a temper. Says he’s sick o’ the very name of ‘Braith.’ Says you’re a scoundrel, sneakin’ under an American name an’ cit’z’nship, an’ not entitled to either. He won’t git Uncle Sam’s fingers burnt in no more of your scrapes, he says, an’ th’ law can take its course. Then—” “What?” I gasped. ‘‘ Gouverneur Morris said this of—me?” “That, an’ a lot more jest as flatterin’ ; an’ winds up by stampin’ out of the room, an’ sayin’ he’ll hear nothin’ more.” ‘But I don’t understand. -I never met Minister Morris, and none of my affairs have yet come before him ‘for adjustment. What can he mean by—’” ‘“Let’s git to that later. I’ve got an idee of my own. Will I go on with this story, or won't I?” ‘“Go ahead,” I said confusedly, my brain sick with bewilderment. ‘‘ What next?” ‘Out he stamps, leavin’ me alone in his place. I was just goin’ to foller, when I thinks maybe [ll have better luck with some of his sec’taries. So I hangs around, waitin’ for one of ’em to happen in on the way to bed. Just to amoose myself, I looks over some of the papers layin’ around loose on the study table. Dretful untidy chap, that Morris man is.” ‘You mean you read his private pa- pers?” ‘““T don’t know how private they was. Most of ’em was in French, an’ didn’t mean much, to me. But I found one, with an English translation pinned onto it. I read that one. It was kind of int’restin’ ”’ ‘“And you read a personal document o.—— ‘““T sure did. An’ you'd better be thankful, instead of so stiff about it. ’Cause, if I hadn’t read it, you’d still be coolin’ them gilded heels of your’n in jail.” | “Was it about me, then?” ‘“ Not till I made it so. It was a HARVEST. 265 letter from an American, whose son had got into some kind of trouble over here. The feller was in jail, on charge of in- sultin’ the gov’ment. Senator, an’ he’d got Gin’r’l Washing- ton to endorse ‘his letter, askin’ Morris to get the lad off, an’ sent it to Morris. An’ Morris got a order of release from th’ C’mittee of Public Safety, an’— Say, son,” he interpolated, ‘‘ these Frenchies sure don’t know a joke when they see one. If they did, they’d a died a laughin’ every time they heard that measly c’mittee called ‘Safety.’ It’s about as ‘safe’ as an angry rattler. I’d sooner—” 6é But—’’ “Oh, the story? I forgot. Waal, the documents was all pinned together, translations an’ all, an’ tacked to that one long sheet of paper. The order of release was dated yesterday. An’ it was made out in blank. Out o’ compliment to Morris, I ’spose. I reckon it had come that evenin’, while Morris was out, an’ he hadn’t had chance yet to—” “T just unpinned the order from the rest, for fear it might fall into some dis- - honest feller’s hands. It was foolish for Morris to leave it layin’ about so careless. For all he knew, it might ’a’ been used to git some other pore pris- ‘ner out o’ jail. To make ‘sartin it shouldn’t be misused that way, I jest put temptation out of anybody else’s reach by fillin’ in your name.” “Good old Bemis! Good old boy!” I cried. But—” “Or, leastways, *twasn’t your name, but this mister Dee Groo’s.” “De Grieux’s?” 5 “'That’s the one. I’d made Miss Elise spell it out fer me; an’ I wrote it straight. Then, seein’ I wasn’t wanted at Morris’s, an’ jest nacherally hatin’ to be a unwelcome guest, I ‘leaves the em- bassy, an’—” “And came to the prefecture with the order?” “Not me. I hunted round till I found a jonny-darm that could speak some English, an’ I found from him where the court interp’ter lived, an’ I routed him out of bed and brought him along. Told him ’bout how I was your old uncle, sent over from the States to 9)(0)(6) ANKICC S His father’s a (CO)