I tore it open and read:
"My poor, wandering boy: We are going away--I don't know where. This
only I know, we are going west to settle somewhere up the Lakes. The
lawsuit is ended, and we got the money your father left me, and are
going west to get a new and better start in the world. If you will write
me at the post-office in Buffalo, I will inquire there for mail. I
wonder if you will ever get this! I wonder if I shall ever see you
again! I shall find some way to send word to you. Mr. Rucker says he
knows the captain of the boat you work on, and can get his address for
me in Syracuse--then I will write you. I am going very far away, and if
you ever see this, and never see me again, keep it always, and whenever
you see it remember that I would always have died willingly for you, and
that I am going to build up for you a fortune which will give you a
better life than I have lived. Be a good boy always. Oh, I don't want to
go, but I have to!"
It was not signed. I read it slowly, because I was not very good at
reading, and turned my eyes west--where my mother had gone. I had lost
her! How could any one be found who had disappeared into that region
which swallowed up thousands every month? I had no clue. I did not
believe that Rucker would try to help her find me. She had been kidnaped
away from me. I threw myself down on the dead grass, and found the
worn-out shoe I had picked up in the closet. It had every curve of her
foot--that foot which had taken so many weary steps for me.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61