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The following correspondence explains itself: PHILADELPHIA, January 26th, 1885. DEAR DR. SLADE: I think you need no assurance that the Seybert Investigating Committee have been anxious to deal with you in the fairest spirit of impartial, unbiased, scientific investigation, and I think you will bear witness to their uniformly considerate courtesy throughout our intercourse.
In all of the proceedings the name of Tom Slade was not once mentioned, though his vantage point on the spring-board ought to have made his testimony of some value.
"Well, I don't wish you to go," said Slade, in a very decided way. "I can't help that, Simon. Mary, I'm told, is dying, and Joe is in a dreadful way. I'm needed there and so are you, as to that matter. There was a time when, if word came to you that Morgan or his family were in trouble " "Do hush, will you!" exclaimed the landlord, angrily. "I won't be preached to in this way any longer."
And then his big arms went around her, and she nestled close to him, shuddering, sobbing, laughing. Excitedly, rapidly, as he held her, she related the story of the night's adventure. Then Shorty and the others came up. She and Lawler were standing in front of a store, in a glare of light that came through a big window; and she saw his lips straighten when she told him what Slade had done.
He stood up full of Gila monster poison and got away from you threw you off his trail tricked a bunch of Apache trailers out-ran and out-thirsted you. Want me to tell that to Slade?" The taunt was followed by another prolonged silence. Carmena smiled and tossed down first a bare corn cob and then a full ear. "Which will you have?" she asked. "Your way, you'll get the cob.
No one of these men had ever had experiences of this sort before, nor was any one of them acquainted with the ordinary possibilities of deception. The experience of our Commission with Dr. Slade would suggest, that the lack of such knowledge on their part was unfortunate.
He was an overseer of a big plantation before the war. From somewhere up North, I think, but now he's more of a rebel than the rebels themselves. Often happens that way. But you've got to reckon with him." "Glad I know that much. He reminds me of a man I've seen, though I can't recall where or when. It's enough, though, to watch out for Slade.
Slade winks rapidly three or four times in a sort of mental abstraction, I suppose, while thinking out an answer, but he always breathes freer when this crisis is passed, and the violent convulsions are over, which attend his hurried writing and the re-turning of the slate. His eyes can now be fixed in turn on each of his sitters, and he can rest a minute or two.
Bradley and I drove by you and the Slade girls, you spoke to me and lifted your hat to Mrs. Bradley. I could do naught but return the salute. Now my boy, there's no use of my mincing words with you; I befriended you, probably saved you from ruin, but young as you are, you know full well that our paths do not lie parallel with each other. I am a gambler, and although Mrs.
Armed with this letter, young Cody accompanied Simpson's wagon-train to Laramie, and soon found Superintendent Slade.
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