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Updated: May 31, 2025
You were horrified enough to know that I had dared to take the only honest way left me to make a living. I know you, Randolph Pinkney! You'd rather see Joaquin Muriatta, the Mexican bandit, standing before you to-night with a revolver, than the helpless, shamed, miserable Mornie Nixon. And you can't help yourself, unless you throw me over the cliff.
A week had elapsed since he had last looked upon it, a week of disappointment, of anxious fears, of doubts, of wild imaginings, of utter helplessness. In his hopeless quest of the missing Mornie, he had, in fancy, seen this serene eminence haunting his remorseful, passion-stricken soul.
I tell you that that girl, Mornie Nixon, has, to my knowledge, been treated like a lady, has been cared for as she never was cared for in her father's house, and, while that father has been proclaiming her shame in every bar-room at the Ferry, has had the sympathy and care, night and day, of two of the most accomplished ladies of the Ferry, Mrs. Sol Saunders, gentlemen, and Miss Euphemia."
"Oh, I carried her up!" "In your arms?" "Y-e-e-s." Miss Euphemia paused, and bit off the stalk of a flower, made a wry face, and threw it away from her in disgust. Then she dug a few tiny holes in the earth with her parasol, and buried bits of the flower-stalk in them, as if they had been tender memories. "I suppose you knew Mornie very well?" she asked.
He turned very pale. He had consoled himself always for his complicity in Ruth's absence, that he was taking good care of Mornie, or what is considered by most selfish natures an equivalent permitting or encouraging some one else to "take good care of her;" but here was a contingency utterly unforeseen.
She'll never make a good variety-actress: she's too heavy. And the boys don't give her a fair show. No woman can make a debut in my version of 'Somnambula, and have the front row in the pit say to her in the sleepwalking scene, 'You're out rather late, Mornie. Kinder forgot to put on your things, didn't you? Mother sick, I suppose, and you're goin' for more gin?
"Mornie," he repeated impatiently, "it's me, Rand. If you want anything, you're to call me. I am just outside." Still no answer came from the silent cabin. He pushed open the door gently, hesitated, and stepped over the threshold. A change in the interior of the cabin within the last few hours showed a new presence.
I don't know her at all except through Sol." Rand stared hard at this. The "Pet," who was looking at him intently, said, "Show me the place where you saw Mornie clinging that night." "It's dangerous," suggested Rand. "You mean I'd be afraid! Try me! I don't believe she was SO dreadfully frightened!" "Why?" asked Rand, in astonishment. "Oh because " Rand sat down in vague wonderment.
No, sir, it's human nature; and it was quite natural that Mornie, when she caught sight o' Mrs. Sol's face last night, should rise up and cuss us both. Lord, if she'd only acted like that! But the old lady got her quiet at last; and, as I said before, it's all right, and we'll pull her through. But don't YOU thank us: it's a little matter betwixt us and Mornie.
It's the first time the old rip ever had a hand in his favor: so the boys will see fair play for Nixon, and agin' YOU. But I reckon you don't mind him!" "So little, I shall never pull trigger on him," said Ruth gravely. The bar-keeper stared, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, thar's that Kanaka Joe, who used to be sorter sweet on Mornie, he's an ugly devil, he's helpin' the old man."
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