Anyway, people were afraid of me. Two years after
that, way over in a corner of Texas, I struck a town where my man
had been. He'd jest left. People said he came to that town
without a woman. I back-trailed my man through Arkansas an'
Mississippi, an' the old trail got hot again in Texas. I found
the town where he first went after leavin' home. An' here I got
track of Milly. I found a cabin where she had given birth to her
baby. There was no way to tell whether she'd been kept a prisoner
or not. The feller who owned the place was a mean, silent sort of
a skunk, an' as I was leavin' I jest took a chance an' left my
mark on him. Then I went home again.
"It was to find I hadn't any home, no more. Father had been dead
a year. Frank Erne still lived in the house where Milly had left
him. I stayed with him awhile, an' I grew old watchin' him. His
farm had gone to weed, his cattle had strayed or been rustled,
his house weathered till it wouldn't keep out rain nor wind. An'
Frank set on the porch and whittled sticks, an' day by day wasted
away. There was times when he ranted about like a crazy man, but
mostly he was always sittin' an' starin' with eyes that made a
man curse. I figured Frank had a secret fear that I needed to
know. An' when I told him I'd trailed Milly for near three years
an' had got trace of her, an' saw where she'd had her baby, I
thought he would drop dead at my feet.
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