Aber: Shall answer no further requests, as nobody can identify. Sheriff called off.
Odod.
Now Odod was just Dodo backward; that was my pet name for Daddy when I was little. The word “sheriff” seemed likely, but I couldn’t understand that about “requests.” Then I thought to read the first letters of each word, like the acrostics Daddy and I used to work out together in the Youth’s Companion, and there it was, easy. Just “San Francisco.” Then I knew Daddy was safe in California and wanted me to come on.
I packed right up and bought a ticket, hoping to find him somehow when I got there. I didn’t think anybody would suspicion my leaving, but I had no idea how cruel white folks can be, till I had gone too far to come back. Just after we left New Orleans I thought I saw a man following me. I wasn’t quite certain till we changed cars at El Paso, but then I knew he was a sure-enough detective.
Talk about bloodhounds! That man never left me out of his sight for a minute. He sat in the corner with his hat pulled over his face, and I could just feel his eyes boring a hole in my back.
First thing I did after I got to the Golden West Hotel was to mail a personal to the Herald. It read like this:
Odod: Any money will assist the cause. Help earnestly desired. We are in trouble.
Aber.
I knew if he saw this message he’d see it meant “Am watched. Wait.”
Well, I can’t tell you half what I went through that first week, with the detective turning up everywhere I went, till I was afeared I’d die of the strain. Sometimes I just felt like murdering him to get him out of the way. I didn’t care so much for myself, but I was in mortal terror lest he’d catch sight of Daddy and arrest him. I watched my chance, and one night I went to bed early, leaving word at the office to be called at five next morning. Then, at two o’clock I got up and went out, leaving all my things in the hotel.