After some little time, he produced what appeared to Zack
to be an inordinately long letter, written in a cramped hand, and
superscribed apparently with two long lines of inscription, instead of
an ordinary address. Opening this strange-looking document, Mat guided
himself a little way down the lines on the first page with a very
unsteady forefinger--stopped, and read somewhat anxiously and with
evident difficulty--then put the letter back in his pocket, dropped his
eyes once more on the gun in his lap, and said with a strong emphasis
on the Christian name:--
_"Arthur_ Carr?"
"No," returned Zack. "I never met with a man of that name. Is he a
friend of yours?"
Mat went on scouring the rifle barrel.
Young Thorpe said nothing more. He had been a little puzzled early in
the evening, when his friend had exhibited the fan and tobacco pouch
(neither of which had been produced before), and had mentioned to Mr.
Blyth that they were once intended for "a woman" who was now dead. Zack
had thought this conduct rather odd at the time; but now, when it was
followed by these strangely abrupt references to the name of Carr, by
this mysterious scouring of the rifle and desperate brandy drinking in
solitude, he began to feel perplexed in the last degree about Mat's
behavior.
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