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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"


Hundreds of wagons pass there every day. There is a stage line with
daily coaches, stations, houses. A telegraph line runs from one end of
the valley to the other. You could not have missed all this had you
struck south. A fool would have known that. But you took my girl--" he
choked up, and pointed to me, ragged and uncouth.
"Good God! Colonel Meriwether," I cried out at length, "you are not
regretting that I brought her through?"
"Almost, sir," he said, setting his lips together. "Almost!"
"Do you regret then that she brought me through--that I owe my life to
her?"
"Almost, sir," he repeated. "I almost regret it."
"Then go back--leave us--report us dead!" I broke out, savagely. It was
moments before I could accept this old life again offered me.
"She is a splendid girl, a noble being," I said to him, slowly, at last.
"She saved me when I was sick and unable to travel. There is nothing I
could do that would pay the debt I owe to her. She is a noble woman, a
princess among women, body and soul."
"She is like her mother," said he, quietly. "She was too good for this.
Sir, you have done my family a grievous wrong. You have ruined my
daughter's life.


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