“The scoundrel, Campbell, knows that you own all this, besides some houses and lands (here’s a memorandum of them) which I have deeded to you. In the hope of getting hold of your property, he, as your stepfather, has had himself appointed your guardian. It is a shame that the courts allow that, but he owns a judge or two, and he has managed to get it done. That is why he is following us and trying to get hold of you. He doesn’t know what your property is, or where, and he thinks you will have these papers. So, if he can get hold of you, he thinks he can get hold of the property also. If I can manage to get you to New York, I’ll take the papers out of your hands and place them in charge of some men there whom I can trust. But as I may fail in that, and as something may happen to me, I want you to have the papers. “I am pretty well off just now, but my business is very uncertain. When I die, I may be very rich, or I may ‘go broke’ any day between now and then. That is why I have put this property into your hands while I have it. I am a reckless fellow. I ‘take the very longest chances’ sometimes in my business enterprises. Sometimes I suddenly lose pretty nearly everything I have in the world, and I might die just at such a time. So I have provided for you in any case. “If I can get to New York with you, I am going to hide you completely from that man, Campbell. There is an excellent gentlewoman there in whose hands I intend to put you. She is a woman to be trusted, and she is rather poor, so she will be glad to take charge of you and keep you out of Campbell’s way, damn him! Pardon me, dear! I didn’t mean to swear in your presence. I only mean that I can give that lady plenty of money, and she can take you wherever she thinks you will be safe.” “But I had much rather stay with you, Father,” I answered, with tears in my eyes. “Yes, I know. And God knows,” he said, “that I had rather have you with me. But everything is a gamble with me. I have many enemies, child, and some one of them may make an end of me any day. The other way will be safest for you.” “I don’t care for myself,” I answered. “I only care for you, and to be with you. I’ll take the risks, and if any of your enemies ever makes an end of you, as you say, I want to be there to wreak vengeance. You know I can shoot as straight as any man alive, whether with a pistol or a rifle or a shot-gun.” “You dear child!” he responded, “I know all that. And that is why I want to house you safely. You have it in you to be as reckless as your dad is, and I don’t intend that you shall have occasion or opportunity.” How I did love my father! I don’t believe he was ever bad, Dorothy, though they said he was. People who liked him used to say he was “uncommonly quick on trigger”; people who hated him called him a desperado. I call him my father, and I love his memory, for he is dead now, as you will hear later.