This is what he did. Instead of shutting himself up in his room he expressed an
immediate desire to visit some neighboring mines, and, procuring a good horse,
started off at the first available moment. He rode north, lost himself in the
mountains, and wandered till he found a guide intelligent enough to lend
himself to his plans. To this guide he confided his horse for the few days he
intended to be gone, paying him well and promising him additional money if,
during his absence, he succeeded in circulating the report that he, Abner
Fairbrother, had gone deep into the mountains, bound for such and such a camp.
Having thus provided an alibi, not only for himself, but for his master, too,
in case he should need it, he took the direct road to the nearest railway
station, and started on his long ride east. He did not expect to overtake the
man he had been personating, but fortune was kinder than is usual in such
cases, and, owing to a delay caused by some accident to a freight train, he
arrived in Chicago within a couple of hours of Mr. Fairbrother, and started out
of that city on the same train. But not on the same car. Sears had caught a
glimpse of Fairbrother on the platform, and was careful to keep out of his
sight. This was easy enough. He bought a compartment in the sleeper and stayed
in it till they arrived at the Grand Central Station. Then he hastened out and,
fortune favoring him with another glimpse of the man in whose movements he was
so interested, followed him into the streets.
Fairbrother had shaved off his beard before leaving El Moro. Sears had shaved
his off on the train. Both were changed, the former the more, owing to a
peculiarity of his mouth which up till now he had always thought best to cover.
Sears, therefore, walked behind him without fear, and was almost at his heels
when this owner of one of New York’s most notable mansions, entered, with a
spruce air, the doors of a prominent caterer.
Understanding the plot now, and having everything to fear for his mistress, he
walked the streets for some hours in a state of great indecision. Then he went
up to her apartment. But he had no sooner come within sight of it than a sense
of disloyalty struck him and he slunk away, only to come sidling back when it
was too late and she had started for the ball.
Trembling with apprehension, but still strangely divided in his impulses,
wishing to serve master and mistress both, without disloyalty to the one or
injury to the other, he hesitated and argued with himself, till his fears for
the latter drove him to Mr. Ramsdell’s house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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