American fiction; Horror tales, American; Short stories, American
“San Antonio, Texas,
January 1st, 1892.
MY DEAR RADFORD:
You have forgotten me, likely enough, but I have not forgotten you nor
anyone (nor anything) in Brexington. I saw your advertisement in the
New York _Herald_ and am glad to learn from it that you are alive
and to infer that you are well and prosperous.
I need a lawyer’s help. I want to buy real estate and I mean to return
home, so you are exactly the man I am looking for. I am writing this
to ask that you take charge of any and all of my affairs falling
within your province, and to learn whether you are willing to do so.
I am a rich man now, and without any near ties of kin or kind. I want
to come home to Brexington, to live there if I can, to die there if I
must. Along with other matters which I will explain if you accept I
want to buy a house in the town and a farm nearby, if not the Shelby
house and estate then some others like them.
If willing to act for me please reply at once care of the Hotel
Menger. Remember me to any cousins of mine you may see.
Faithfully yours,
CASSIUS M. CASE.”
The name I knew well enough, of course, but my efforts to recall the
individual resulted only in a somewhat hazy recollection of a tall,
thin, red-cheeked lad of seventeen or so. It was almost exactly
twenty-eight years since Colonel Shelby Case had left Brexington
taking with him his son. Colonel Shelby had died some six years later.
I remembered hearing of his death, in Egypt, I thought. Since his
departure from Brexington I had never heard of or from Cassius.
My reply I wrote at once, professing my readiness to do anything in my
power to serve him.
As soon as the mails made it possible, I had a second letter from him.
“MY DEAR RADFORD:
“Your kind letter has taken a load off my mind. I am particular about
any sort of arrangements I make, exacting as to the accurate carrying
out of small details and I feared I might have difficulty in finding a
painstaking man in a community so easy-going as Brexington. I remember
your precise ways as a boy and am basking in a sense of total relief
and complete reliance on you.
“I should buy the Shelby house and estate on your representations, but
I must see for myself first. If they are the best I can get I shall
take them anyhow. But please be ready to show me over every estate
of five hundred acres or more, lying within ten miles of the Court
House. I wish to examine every one which is now for sale or which you
can induce the owners to consider selling. I want the best which is
to be had. Also I want a small place of fifty acres or so, two miles
or more from the larger place I buy. Money is no object to me and the
condition of the buildings on the places will not weigh with me at all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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