“That was her name before she was married.”
“Thought so. You ain’t onlike her. I reckon I’m your dad all right.”
“I tell you he’s dead.” Louisa spoke passionately. “I should think my mother ought to know.”
“I rather think your dad knows better. To be sure he let her think so. Wa’n’t no place fur her an’ the young ’un down here with Injuns as thick as blackberries, and he jest let her think that-away, you see.”
Louisa’s head jerked excitedly. “You bad, wicked old man. I disown ye, I do. My father was a hero. He died for Texas. He was a brave, good man. I’ll not give him up for an old horse thief. You’re lying. Them that steals would just as liefs lie, too, and I don’t believe one word of it. You’re trying to fool me. Your name may be Cyrus Sparks, but you’re no kin of mine.”
“Let me see,” said the man, moving uneasily. “I reckon I kin prove my right to the name all right, and I reckon I kin prove my right to my darter, too.”
“Your right to me?” Louisa gazed at him with startled eyes.
“Yes. You ain’t twenty-one yet and I reckon a father has some claim on his darter.”
“Not if he has deserted her and left her an orphin to be bound out to strangers.”
“Now, you don’t tell me it was that-away.” The man turned his sharp old eyes upon her. “When did yer mother die? Pore Louisy, she was a good sort, and I hadn’t oughter hev left her. Seems as if I must hev ben a wuthless kind of fellow. That’s why I didn’t go back. I left her and the young un when things looked pretty bad for me, pretty bad. I wrote to her right reg’lar an’ I’d kep’ on a-writin’ if I hadn’t heerd she was dead and the young un, too. Yes, you needn’t doubt it. I did hear that and believed it too, so I says to myself: what’s the use of goin’ back? I ain’t nobody to welcome me; and as I was beginnin’ to git together a little property I thought I’d as well stay whar I was. I can’t see I was to blame. Now, look-a-here; your name is Louisa Sparks. Your mother was Louisa Ricketts, daughter of old Sol Ricketts and Martha his wife. You was born Jinooary, eighteen hundred and twenty-seven; yer dad lef’ home fur Texas when you was about three year old and your mother went to her folks. Your dad was red-headed; look at my red head. He was son of Jeremiah Sparks and Laviny his wife. That’s me. Now ain’t I giving ye family history all straight?”