Some time after I learned from the bee-hunter whom Trusty received so savagely the history of this amiable but unfortunate man, whom the former had known as a lad in Missouri. Warden's father was the son of one of the first families in Virginia; was educated at a first-rate school and studied medicine. He got into bad company, turned gambler and then highwayman, and was for some years the terror of post travellers in North Carolina and Virginia. About this time he fell in love with a very beautiful, fashionably educated young lady in Virginia, and ran away with her to Missouri, which was just beginning to be colonized. He altered his mode of life, was greatly respected by his fellow-citizens, and in a few years sent to Congress as deputy for Missouri. Thus he lived most creditably till his son was twelve years of age, and his daughter was married at the age of seventeen to a farmer. One day, however, he rode to the nearest town where a court was being held, and for the first time during many years tasted spirits. He had scarce done so, ere his old wicked foe seized on him again with all its might, and he rode daily, in spite of all the prayers and representations of his family, to the town, and returned at night in a most frightful state of intoxication. On the next court day he was about to ride again to town, when his wife begged her son-in-law to accompany him. Warden had been drinking already, and said he had a feeling he should be killed during the day. He made his young son take a solemn oath to follow his murderer to the end of the world and take his life. Then he rode off to the town, soon became intoxicated, began quarrelling, at length began wrangling with his son-in-law, who tried to hold him back, and drew his knife on him; the latter defended himself, and Warden ran on his knife, and was carried home in a dying state. Warden once again reminded his son of the oath he had taken, and expired. The law was put in work against his son-in-law, who fled to Indiana and lived there in concealment. Warden's son grew up, and in his sixteenth year was the favourite of the whole countryside, but then he took his rifle and his horse, bade good-bye to his mother and sister, rode to Indiana, and shot his brother-in-law in his own house. He escaped from the police with great difficulty, and fled to the desert, where he had been living five years when he visited me. [Illustration] CHAPTER XI. THE WILD HORSE.