e skipped out he got to drinking. They found him
one morning at the bottom of the cliffs, not a hundred yards from the
spot where they afterwards found her.

"But I knew what had become of Beulah. I guessed right. Didn't I know
his ways with the girls? You know there weren't many women who could
stand out against him. Mary could, and did--that's why he was so wild
against you. But little Beulah--she threw herself at him. And when
she ran away, it was to join him in Philadelphia, and go sailing with
him to South America.

"Now you know how he turned the trick on you, don't you? But--don't
look at me like that! I didn't know what he was doing, I swear I
didn't! I thought he just wanted his sweetheart near him, or that she
insisted on coming, or something like that. I thought it was devilish
bold of him, bringing the girl where everybody knew her. But then, he
really wasn't taking such a chance, because nobody ever went near the
Old Place, except upon my invitation, and he drove her over from the
next township in the night, and she didn't come near the village. I
knew, but he knew I wouldn't blab. My God, no!

"Well, he came to me the next day after he got back from Boston. 'I
ask a favor of you,' he said to me. Yes--asking favors, when he knew I
must do what he said. Smiling and purring--you remember the pleasant
manner he had. 'Just a short note. I know you are handy with the
pen,' he said.

"What could I do? I had to look out for myself. He gave me a page
from an old letter as a sample of the handwriting. It was Mary
Barntree's writing; oh, I knew it well. I had it perfect in a few
minutes. You know--I had a rare trick with the pen in those
days--before this cough got me, and my hand got shaky. The note I
wrote for him was a mere line. 'Meet me at Beasley's Old Place at
three,' with her initial signed. That was all. But he had a sheet of
her own special note paper for me to write on (no, I don't know where
he got it!) and of course he knew--like we all knew--how fond the two
of you were of lovers' walks out on the cliffs.

"Do you remember how you got that note? Oh, he was a slick devil. He
thought of everything. Abel Horn brought it to you--remember? He told
you, with a wink and a grin, that it was from a lady--but he didn't say
what lady. Remember? Well, Beulah had given him the note, and told
him to say that--not to mention names. Abel was a good fellow; he
wouldn't gossip. _