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Updated: June 21, 2025
Crenshaw, though an excellent man of business, with an unblinking eye on number one, was kindly, on the whole, but there was a Mrs. Crenshaw, to whom he rendered a strict account of all his deeds, and that sacred institution, the home, was only a tolerable haven when these deeds were nicely calculated to fit with the lady's exactions. Especially was he aware that Mrs.
"Come in," said Crenshaw, a trifle impatiently, and in response to his bidding the door opened and a small boy entered the room dragging after him a long rifle. Suddenly overcome by a speechless shyness, he paused on the threshold to stare with round, wondering eyes at the two men. "Well, sonny, what do you want?" asked Mr. Crenshaw indulgently.
"You must have had some difficulty in keeping track of yourself," Harleston remarked, as he made a note of the names. Then he returned the bills and the cards to the book, and put it back in Crenshaw's pocket. "It's unwise to carry so much money about you," he remarked; "it induces spending, as well as provokes attack." "What's that to you?" replied Crenshaw angrily.
My mother now makes her home with her oldest daughter, Mary Crenshaw, wife of Mr. O. B. Crenshaw, a few miles north of Simpsonville, Shelby county, Ky. She waits in confident expectation that before long she too will depart to be with Christ and His redeemed, where the families of his saints will be reunited for ever.
"If it were not for spoiling the devil's handiwork, my fine friend, I'd smash your face," Harleston remarked. "Smash it!" the other panted. "I'll promise to smash yours at the first opportunity." "Which latter smashing won't be until some years later," Harleston retorted, as he turned Crenshaw over.
There was plenty for him to seek, in regard to the affair of the cab of the sleeping horse, but nothing more for the Spencer gang to inspect in his apartment. Crenshaw had made a thorough job of his investigation. In the morning he took out the list and went over it again.
"That mule, sir, sees good with his right eye, but it's got a gait like it was looking fo' the left-hand side of the road and wondering what in thunderation had got into it that it was acrost the way; mules are gifted with some sense, but mighty little judgment." "Never mind the mule, Bob," said Crenshaw.
Crenshaw had traveled the road before, but I never had; we had traveled several miles on the mountain, when he passed near a great precipice; just before we passed it Crenshaw asked me for my whip, which had a pound of lead in the butt; I handed it to him, and he rode up by the side of the South Carolinian, and gave him a blow on the side of the head and tumbled him from his horse; we lit from our horses and fingered his pockets; we got twelve hundred and sixty-two dollars.
No; one will be enough, thank you. Have him come right up to my apartment. Good-bye! Now if you'll excuse me for a brief time, Mr. Crenshaw, I'll get into some clothes while you think over the question whether you will explain or go to prison." "You will not dare!" Crenshaw laughed mockingly.
Such ignorance is a large asset for those of us who know. I had thought of impersonating her and amusing myself with d'Hausonville, but I concluded it wasn't worth while. It riles me, however, that the affair was so atrociously bungled by Crenshaw and the others. What possessed them to release Mrs. Clephane once they had her? and what in Heaven's name made them overlook the letter in the cab?"
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