She is honest to the core, and they will never accomplish her ruin—if that is what they mean. But of course, you must understand, I am only voicing a suspicion, and a very uncharitable one at that; but the odor of the outfit is bad, and they may compromise her hopelessly before she gets her eyes open, and spoil her life.
I want you to hunt her up and keep an eye on her, and put yourself on a square footing with her, so that she will have confidence in you. Above all things, see that she has a boarding place where there is some respectable married woman, and give her a talking to about the camp that will open her eyes. She will take care of herself all right if she is once put on her guard.
I want you to understand she is no pick-up for any rake to trifle with; but a woman is a woman—you know that, Cy, as well as I do—and youth is youth.
She is a good telegrapher—unusually good, I imagine. I mention this so that you may get her employment if that job she has gone to looks at all scaly, and likely to compromise her.
She has great force of character—her father’s temperament before he broke down—and she has taken up all these things to fit herself for that business career to which she aspires. Don’t be deceived by her suave and amiable manner into thinking her a weakling, for she has got immense force of character, and she perfectly believes she is going to have a business career.
I have told her in the letter that you are engaged to the nicest girl in Denver, so as to put you on a confidential footing, and head off your falling in love with her yourself. Be a brother to her, Cy, and keep her out of trouble. God knows you are wicked enough yourself to scent wickedness from afar and see any danger in the path of an attractive girl without experience. Look her up at once—at once, mind you—and let me have a good account of yourself as soon as possible.
Affectionately,
Fitz-Mac.
II.
Creede, Colo., March 17, 1892.
To Fitz-Mac, Denver, Colo.