Out of courtesy to my parents, I drew a pen picture of Captain Elerding. I told how gallant, how handsome, how brave, how popular, how genteel, and even how old he was. I elaborated upon his good qualities with the zeal of a loving girl. I left the age till the last, for I knew that when my parents learned that he was forty-five and quite gray that it would have the effect of a bomb bursting in camp; but of course the gray hair was caused by the many years of service for his country. Think of it! He was so devoted to his country that he had never been married, so there was no danger of my having to assume the responsibility of mother to a lot of grown up sons and daughters.
This description of the charming captain brought a telegram to me saying: “Inez Manford, come home on first train.”
It was signed by both my mother and father. I did not quite understand it, but wired back: “Delayed, see letter.”
Then I wrote my parents a letter, explaining that Captain Elerding was expecting a party of friends soon and very much wished me to extend my visit another month, and with their consent I should be delighted to do so. The reply to that letter was mamma herself. She came post haste and superintended the packing of my trunks with such dispatch that we were east bound seven hours after her arrival in ’Frisco. I asked to be allowed to introduce the captain, believing his winning ways would capture mamma’s heart. She was obdurate and refused to see him or allow me to see him.
It was two days after we arrived home before I could steal away alone long enough to write him. I think the letter only increased the desire to talk with him, and I resolved to run away and return to him. I felt sure he would lose no time in making me his wife if he had but a chance, and I would be the gainer, for he was very wealthy, in fact, more so by far than Harry Caruthers ever would be, and, more than all, I knew we would be happy.
I stole out into the darkness of the night after everybody had retired. I knew that the Limited stopped to take water just at the edge of town, about a mile from our house.
Through the biting cold I forged my way, dodging from one alley to another, until the railroad tracks were reached, then a long line of green and red lights guided me to where I caught the train as it was pulling out, and I was soon speeding to my dear captain.
The time seemed to drag so slowly, each day seeming longer than the one before, until I reached my destination. I took a carriage and went directly to the captain’s hotel. I asked for him, but no one seemed to be able to talk to me; everyone was excited beyond reason. I finally got the attention of the clerk long enough to learn that the chambermaid had just discovered Captain Elerding in his room, dead.
In his strong, right hand was still clenched the deadly pistol. The ugly hole in his temple and the powder burns around it told the story. In front of him were two papers, one a letter from my mother in which she upbraided him unmercifully for having cultivated my acquaintance. The other was his last will and testament, stating that he was in possession of all his faculties. It said: “I hereby bequeath, demise, convey and assign all of my money, property, goods and chattels whatsoever, that I now own, to my beloved illegitimate child, Inez Manford.”