Thorne resolved not to expatiate, but to
give the story on plain lines. The result was hardly as merciful as might
have been expected.
* * * * *
"DEAR WILLY," she wrote: "Prepare yourself for a most unhappy letter [what
woman can forego her preface?]--unhappy mother that I am, to have such a
message laid upon me. But you will understand when you have read why the
cup may not pass from us. If ever again a father or a mother can help you,
my son, you have us always here, poor in comfort though we are. It seems
that the comforters of our childhood have little power over those hurts
that come with strength of years.
"Seven years ago this summer your father went to the city on one of his
usual trips. Everything was usual, except that at Colfax he noticed a pair
of beautiful thoroughbred horses being worked over by the stablemen, and a
young fellow standing by giving directions. The horses had been overridden
in the heat. It was such weather as we are having now. The young man, who
appeared to have everything to say about them, was of the country sporting
type, distinctly not the gentleman. In a cattle country he would have been
a cowboy simply.
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