I have fixed it so
everybody will think my death was accidental. I've been warned time
and again about that foot-log, and nobody will suspicion the truth.
You must never mention it to a soul. It is my last and only request.
It would go harder with mother if she knew that. Good-bye, John. I
love you more right now than I ever did, and I don't know as I blame
you much or harbor much resentment. I thought I would not say anything
more, but I cannot help it. John, Lizzie is not the woman for you.
She never will love you deep, or very long. Good-bye.
"SALLY."
Westerfelt put the letter in his pocket and turned his horse into an
unfrequented road leading to the mountain and along its side. The air
was filled with the subtle fragrance of growing and blooming things.
He was as near insanity as a man can well be who still retains his
mental equipoise. In this slow manner, his horse picking his way over
fallen trees and mountain streams, he traversed several miles, and
then, in utter desolation, turned homeward.
It was noon when he came in sight of his house.
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