“By this time the moon had come up and it was about as light as day. It had stopped snowin’ and the wind had gone down but it was awful cold. I never saw a nicer night. You could see everything almost as well as daylight. I hurried the old horse as much as I could, but he couldn’t go fast. He hadn’t got much rested from the day before. Every once in a while I looked back at the load. I kind of hated to look, but I couldn’t help it. The blanket commenced to kind of take her shape so it looked to me as if anyone would know that someone was under there. So I got out and moved the blanket and fixed it up more on one side. But I didn’t look at her. Then I drove on across to Vincennes road and turned south. Every once in a while I’d meet someone, and I was afraid all the time that something would happen, but it didn’t and I drove on. The moon got clear up high and I could see everything on the road and around the wagon, and see where her feet came through under the seat and almost touched mine, and could see all the horse blanket that covered her up. I hadn’t got far down the Vincennes road until I thought the blanket had changed its shape and was lookin’ just like her again so I got out and fixed it up and went back and drove on.
“While I was goin’ ‘long I kep’ thinkin’ what I was goin’ to do and I s’pose it was the cold that made me think I’d better go south. I always did hate cold weather, and this winter I thought I’d have to stay out and run ‘round from one place to another, if I didn’t get caught the first thing.
“Then I thought I must take the horse and wagon back home, and I wanted to see that the boy was all right; so I thought it might bother me to go clear out to that quarry and get away from Chicago before daylight. But anyhow I could go until one o’clock and then get back by three, and probably ketch a train before mornin’.
“After a while I begun to have a queer idea about her. I thought I could feel her lookin’ right at me,—kind of feel her eyes. I drove on, and said it was all bosh and she couldn’t do it, and I looked down at her feet and I seen they was in the same place, but still I couldn’t get over that feelin’. I thought she was lookin’ at me all the time, and I kind of ‘magined I could hear her say, ‘Where ‘re you takin’ me? Where are you takin’ me? Where are you takin’ me?’ just about the same as when she said, ‘Kill me! Kill me! Kill me!’ and no matter what I done, or how hard I tried, I could feel her lookin’ and hear them words in my ears.
“By this time I was gettin’ ‘way down the Vincennes road. You know it gets wide ‘way down south, and it ain’t much built up nor very well paved. There’s a lot of road-houses along the street; most of ‘em was open and a good many fellers was ‘round ‘em, just as they always is ‘round saloons. I’d like to have had a drink, for I was awful cold and scart, but I didn’t dare go in, though I did stop at a waterin’-trough in front of one of the places and watered the horse. He was pretty well blowed and was hot. I had urged him pretty hard and the road was heavy. Wherever there was mud it was frozen so stiff that it could almost hold up, and still let you break through, the very worse kind of roads for a horse to go on.
“After I got him watered I went on and kep’ meetin’ lots of wagons. I never had no idea how many people traveled nights before. I s’posed I wouldn’t see anyone, but I met a wagon ever’ little ways and I was always afraid when I passed ‘em. A great many of ‘em hollered out, ‘Hello, pardner,’ or ‘What you got to sell,’ or anything, to be sociable, and I would holler back the best I could, generally stickin’ to ‘Potatoes,’ when they asked me about my load. I thought I knew potatoes better’n anything else, and would be more at home with ‘em if anything was said.
“I hadn’t got far after I watered the horse before her eyes began to bother me again. Then I kept hearin’ them words plainer than I had before. Then I got to thinkin’ about all the things I had heard and read about people who were dead, and about murders, and that seemed to make it worse’n ever. Then I began to think of the things I’d read about people that were put away for dead, when they wa’n’t dead at all, and about mesmerism, and hypnotism, and Christian Science, but I knew none of them things was done the way she’d been killed. Then I remembered about trances, and how people was give up for dead sometimes for days, and even buried and then come to life, and about how people had dug up old graveyards and found out where lots of people had moved around after they’s dead. And then I thought I heard her say, ‘You thought you’d killed me! You thought you’d killed me! You thought you’d killed me!’ And the further I went the plainer it sounded. Finally I began to think ‘twas so and of course I hoped it was, and I kep’ thinkin’ it more’n more and couldn’t get it out of my head. Of course, I looked around at the houses and the trees and fences and at the moon. It had clouded up a little with them kind of lightish heavy clouds you’ve seen that run so fast; they was just flyin’ along over the sky and across the moon, and I was wishin’ I could go ‘long with ‘em and get away from it all, and then the voice would come back, ‘Where are you takin’ me? Where are you takin’ me? Where are you takin’ me? You thought you’d killed me! You thought you’d killed me! You thought you’d killed me!’ And I felt so sure she wa’n’t dead that I couldn’t stand it any more, and I looked at her feet, but they hadn’t moved, and then I stopped the horse and got off’n the wagon and went back to the hind end and lifted up the blanket kind of slow. For I felt as if I’d stand more chance that way than if I did it all at once, and I got the blanket up, and then I got hold of the quilt just by the edge and kind of pulled it back so as to uncover her face, and just then the moon came out from behind a cloud and shone right down in her face, almost like day, and she looked just as white as a ghost, and the bandage had come off her jaw and it hung clear down, and her mouth was open, and I knew she was dead.
“Then I threw the things back and jumped onto the wagon, half crazy, and hurried on.
“It was gettin’ now where there wa’n’t no more houses, and I hardly ever met any teams, and I was gettin’ clear out on the prairies, and I looked at my old silver watch and saw it was close to one o’clock, and I thought mebbe I might just as well get through with it now as to wait any longer. So I looked along at the fields to find a good place, and after a while I saw where there was a great big field full of hummocks. It looked as if they’d been diggin’ for gravel or somethin’ of that kind, and I thought that was as good a place as any. So I looked up and down the road, and saw no one comin’, and I drove the old horse up in the fence corner and got off the wagon, and then I fixed a good place to get over, and fastened the quilt a little better, and took her in my arms and started as fast as ever I could. I went past the fence and run over to the first hummock, but the hole didn’t look very deep, and there was some more further over. So I went to them, but they wa’n’t deep enough either. Then I looked ‘round and saw one bigger’n the rest and went there. I laid her down and looked over. The moon was shinin’ all right, and I could see that the hole was pretty big and deep. I laid her down lengthwise ‘long the bank, and then took one more feel of her heart and ‘twas just the same. Then I fastened the quilt a little tighter, lifted her clear over to the edge, and held her head and feet in a straight line so she’d roll down the hill all right, and then I give her a shove and turned and run away.”