Even though Everet Mapleson had been expecting just this reply it gave him a shock when he heard that name pronounced.
He had, at last, he believed, traced Geoffrey Huntress’ birth! It was proved that Annie Dale was his mother. When she left Richmond she had doubtless gone to the man whom she loved, and who had enticed her, with smooth words and fair promises, to go with him to that wild mining region where they had lived together as husband and wife.
That they were not really so, Everet felt quite sure, else the man would never have taken the girl’s name, instead of giving her his own.
“What did they name the child?” he asked.
The miner looked perplexed.
“I’ll be dashed if I can think,” he said, after a moment’s reflection, as he scratched his head. “’Twas a sort of queer, high sounding name—Jeff—Gof—or something after that sort with a tail to it.”
Everet had heard enough to confirm all his suspicions, but he did not enlighten his companion, as to the rest of the name; he did not care to seem to know too much.
“Did Captain Dale ever return to his mine after that,” he inquired.
“Not while I was there; an agent came once or twice, to act for him, and finally bought him out. I’ve never seen him since, though I’ve often wondered what became of the little motherless chap that we were all so fond of.”
The young Southerner sat with bowed head and thoughtful mien for several moments, then taking a case from his pocket, he opened it, and held it before the miner.