ffecting, that there was not a dry eye
in the house.

Brother Pratt urged me to become a regular member of his company; but,
although he offered me a good salary, and glowingly depicted the
pleasant life of a strolling player, I declined, not having any ambition
in that way. Besides, it was my duty to get on to Pittsburg with Mrs.
Raymond, without any unnecessary delay.

Having received nearly fifty dollars as my share of the proceeds, I took
my leave of Brother Pratt and his company; and, accompanied, of course,
by my fair friend, resumed my journey.

I wish I had sufficient time and space to describe all the adventures
through which we passed, prior to our arrival in Pittsburg. But such
details would occupy too much room, and I must make the most of the few
pages that are left for me to occupy.

We crossed the Alleghanies, and, taking the canal at Johnstown, soon
reached Pittsburg. Here we made some essential improvements in our
garments, and put up at a respectable hotel, Mrs. Raymond still
sustaining her masculine character.

By diligent inquiry, we learned that the villain, Livingston, was in the
city; and my fair friend prepared to avenge the base wrongs which he had
inflicted upon her.

FOOTNOTES:

[I] All who have the good fortune to know Bill Pratt _alias_ "The
Original Beader," will acknowledge that a wittier, funnier or better man
never breathed.

[J] This word, in theatrical parlance, signifies "to employ language
which the author of the play never wrote."

CHAPTER VII

_A deed of blood and horror._

We had no difficulty in ascertaining the place of Livingston's abode;
for he was well known in the city. He resided in a handsome house
situated on one of the principal streets; and we discovered that the
lawless rascal was actually engaged in the practice of the law!

"My dear friend," said Mrs. Raymond to me one day, as we were strolling
along the banks of the river, "I will not suffer you to involve yourself
in any trouble on my account. You must have nothing to do with this
Livingston. You must remain entirely in the back-ground. To me belongs
the task of punishing him. I tell you frankly that I shall kill the man.
He is not fit to live, and he must not be permitted to continue his
career of villainy. Whatever may be my fate, do not, I entreat you, by
unhappy on my account. When I have shed the heart's blood of Livingston,
I shall be willing to die upon the scaffold. To the very last