His jaw tautened as he faced me full.
“You say woman? How do you know? What woman?”
“I know,” said I. “And what woman? A young woman, a girl, somebody’s wife who was supposed to have run away with a breed on the Overland Trail fifty odd years ago—but didn’t.”
He recoiled a step, tottering, countenance blanched.
“What? Supposed! Supposing I say there was such a woman—my own wife, sir—my bar sinister—my cross that has ruined my life and made me doubt God and man and woman for half a century. And this half coin! I vowed I’d have it back. When at old Fort Bridger I got word that she had deserted me—deserted me for a scoundrelly half-breed—I swore that I’d trail her down till I got back the only bond between us. It’s been my passion; it’s been something to live for. That was 1867; this is 1920. I am seventy-four years of age. I have covered the West, and cursed women while cursing her. And to what end? This forsaken spot, a mess of bones, and no word! Oh, God! I thought I didn’t care—she deserved the worst that could happen to her. This is the keepsake token. Yes. But where is she? I loved her. I want to know.”
He shut his face in his quivering hands.
I put my hand upon his shoulder.
“Come, come,” said I. “The half of the coin and the half of the story have been yours. Shall I tell you the other half of the story, to match this other half of the coin? It says ‘Till We Meet Again’, remember.”
Then he faced me once more.
“We halved the coin when we parted in the States, I for Fort Bridger as a government clerk there, she to wait till I should send for her. Yes, yes. Fifty and more years ago. ‘Till We Meet Again’! And mine: ‘God Be With You’! Ah! What do you know? How can you stand and tell me of her? Did you ever see her—did you ever see her?” He clutched me by the arm. “Did you ever see her, that hussy, that scarlet woman, that—that—yes, and my own wife who made me lose faith in woman, man, and God; took my youth from me, sent me wandering about without home and without charity? Curse her! The end of the trail, and what do I find? Dry bones. Whose bones?” He faltered, and he implored, simply: “You guessed? You’re too young to have been on the plains in those days. Did you know him?”