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He had, for my advantage, many jibes at our past ministers, of some of whom he had diverting memories, and especially of Major Cass, of whom he always spoke as "quel Cass," who had curious habits of night wandering and adventure seeking, or, as Pius put it, "could not be quiet of nights."
Nov. 15, 1874, I wrote a letter to my brother-in-law, Lycargus A. Jones, which was published in part in the Pleasant Hill Review Nov. 26, the editor having in the meantime inquired into the statements of facts and satisfied himself of their truth. The parts of this letter now relevant are as follows: Cass County, Nov. 15, 1874. Dear Curg: You may use this letter in your own way.
Financial affairs were evidently going worse than usual with the Martels these days. Cass, adamant in his resolve to pay off the numerous debts contracted by the family during his absence abroad, refused to contribute more than the barest living expenses. Rose had given up the dancing classes and taken a position in one of the big department-stores.
Evidence was afterward offered to show it was the property of a Mr. Cass Beard of Blazing Star, who appeared upon the scene after the discovery of the corpse by Miss Porter. He alleged he had dropped it in lifting the unfortunate remains of the deceased.
Staggered by this preemptive right, sacred to all miners, Cass stopped. "Who is the coroner?" she asked. "Joe Hornsby." "The tall, lame man, who was half eaten by a grizzly?" "Yes." "Well, look now! I'll ride on and bring him back in half an hour. There!" "But, Miss !" "Oh, don't mind me. I never saw anything of this kind before, and I want to see it all."
"Miss Bartlett." "I believe she's fixing to go now. What's it to you?" "Oh, I just want to say good-by," Quin threw off with a great show of indifference. "She was awful good to me out at the hospital." "Oh, I see." Then Cass dismissed the subject for one of far more importance. "Are you out for keeps? Have you come to stay?" "You bet I have. How long has she been here?" "Who?"
At her solicitation Lyman Cass gave Champ a warm berth as night watchman. Small boys played a good many tricks on Champ when he fell asleep at the mill. She had vicarious happiness in the return of Major Raymond Wutherspoon. He was well, but still weak from having been gassed; he had been discharged and he came home as the first of the war veterans.
We'll give him the table that we had made for Johnny Cass. Poor Johnny! I am sorry he has a successor so soon." In five minutes I was taking my homeward walk, mind and heart full of my elfish visitor, with his strange and ancient thoughts, his sharp speeches and queer fancies.
"But, Mark dear, don't forget," interrupted his mother who was feeling faintly jealous of this absorbing new friend, "don't forget that I can show you lots of the interesting things to see round here. I was a little girl here myself and used to play with Cass Dale's father when he was a little boy no bigger than Cass."
Given under my hand, at the city of Washington, the 25th day of February, A.D. 1858, and of the Independence of the United States the eighty-second. By the President: LEWIS CASS, Secretary of State.
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