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Updated: June 19, 2025
Course, though, as for figurin' out why she ever noticed me at all, that's a myst'ry I had to pass up. Must have been soon after she went away that I begun sizin' up some critical the gen'ral style and get up of the party whose hair I was combin' and whose face I was washin' more or less reg'lar.
Ever in the Tractions Buildin'? Say, it's like bein' caught in a fog down the bay, all silence and myst'ry. I expect it's the headquarters of a hundred or more diff'rent corporations, all tied up some way or other with I. U. interests; but on the doors never the name of one shows: just "Mr. So-and-So," "Mr. Whadye Callum," "Mr. This-and-That."
"Myst'ry! Well, I'm great boy f'r myst'ries. Hullo! Zis, zh' place?" They had walked through Twenty-ninth Street, into Second Avenue, and had reached the center of a gloomy and dismal block. Directly in front of the gloomiest and most dismal house of all Bludoffski had suddenly stopped, and in answer to Mr. O'Royster's exclamation, he drew from his pocket a latch-key and opened the side door.
Now yereafter, never let your imagination pull its picket-pin that a- way, an' go to cavortin' 'round permiscus don't go romancin' off on any of them ghost round-ups you're addicted to. Thar's the whole groosome myst'ry laid b'ar; them pups merely smells things they can't locate, an' it frets 'em.
Looked like the myst'ry was solved too, and while I wa'n't plannin' to restrict any interstate romance, or throw the switch on love's young dream, I thought as long as I'd gone this far I might as well take a look. "Maybe he'll be too busy to receive any home delegation just now," says I; "but if you want to stick around while I do a little scoutin' inside, Uncle, I'll be out after a bit."
Pray tell us how this sin took place This myst'ry we could never scan, That sin has sunk the human race, And all brought in by the first man. 'Tis said this is our heavy curse Thy sin imputed unto us. "Ad. When I was plac'd on Eden's soil, I liv'd by keeping God's commands To keep the garden all the while, And labor, working with my hands.
If a gent can go blindly shootin' himse'f into bankruptcy that a-way, the American gov'ment is a rank loser, an' the State of Texas is plumb played out." When we-alls proceeds to ferret into this yere myst'ry, we finds thar's a sharp come up from Dallas who claims that Cimmaron's got to pay him what Glidden owes. This yere Dallas party puts said indebtednesses at five stacks of blues.
There was others, too, that couldn't place Mildred, until some one hints that maybe she's a sure enough swell whose folks had gone broke, and that she's picked out a typewriter job as a sort of trapdoor that would let her down out of sight and keep the meal ticket renewed. After that Mildred is as much of a myst'ry as why folks live in Brooklyn.
I now became quite certain that Moore, in spite of all his apparent method, had gone out of his mind. It seemed best to humour him, especially as so many loaded rifles were lying about. "He has seen the myst'ry hid Under Egypt's pyramid," I quoted; "but, my dear fellow, as the negro is dumb, I don't see how you are to get the secret out of him."
It couldn't 'a' be'n Jeff, fer he wuz at Belleview wid you; an' it couldn't 'a' be'n Billy, fer he wuz too little ter wear my clo's; an' it couldn't 'a' be'n Sally, fer she's a 'oman. It's a myst'ry ter me, suh!" "Have you no enemies? Is there any one in Wellington whom you imagine would like to do you an injury?" "Not a livin' soul dat I knows of, suh.
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