Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Still Hunt; Or, The Robber of the Range онлайн

44 страница из 54

While the miner, the courier, and the stage-coach driver were talking together, she read the letter. It was written in cipher, and she said:

“It is the alphabet which my poor brother taught me to write when I was a very little girl. He felt that I would remember it, and has written something he dared not let any other eye see, I suppose. Oh, if it should be an appeal to me to save him!”

She dashed the tears from her eyes, and nerved herself to read the letter which she seemed to dread so much. It was as follows:

“My Darling Sister: Do you remember away back when you were a little girl of ten, and I was dismissed from the navy, that you said, when father and mother were cold toward me, that you would never desert me?

“Do you recall again, when I came home from Germany, dismissed from the university on account of the fatal duel I fought, you again were my little comforter?

“So it has been through all, even when, maddened with jealousy, I sought the life of Carrol Dean, and, to escape, took my father’s money, you were the one to aid me secretly with funds and to cheer me with your loving letters.