Ten days later.
"James Walker" is all right in body now, and his mind shows improvement too. I start with him for Denver to-morrow morning.
Next night. Brief note, mailed at a way-station.
As we were starting, this morning, Hillyer whispered to me: "Keep this news from Walker until you think it safe and not likely to disturb his mind and check his improvement: the ancient crime he spoke of was really committed--and by his cousin, as he said. We buried the real criminal the other day--the unhappiest man that has lived in a century--Flint Buckner. His real name was Jacob Fuller!" There, mother, by help of me, an unwitting mourner, your husband and my father is in his grave. Let him rest.
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