legally. Ged, sir, as a precedent, I admit we are wrong. To the
best of my knowledge, sir, the--er--Prodigal Son sought his own
father. To be frank, sir,--and Ged, sir, if Culpepper Starbottle
has a fault, it is frankness, sir. As Nelse Buckthorne said to me
in Nashville, in '47, "You would infer, Col. Starbottle, that I
equivocate." I replied, "I do, sir; and permit me to add that
equivocation has all the guilt of a lie, with cowardice superadded."
The next morning at nine o'clock, Ged, sir, he gasped to me--he was
lying on the ground, hole through his left lung just here
(illustrating with DON JOSE'S coat),--he gasped, "If you have a
merit, Star, above others, it is frankness!" his last words,
sir,--demn me. . . . To be frank, sir, years ago, in the wild
exuberance of youth, the son of this gentleman left his--er--er--
er--boyhood's home, owing to an innocent but natural misunderstanding
with the legal protector of his youth--

Morton (interrupting gravely and demurely). Driven from home by my
own sinful and then unregenerate hand--

Starbottle (quickly). One moment, a simple moment. We will not
weary you with--er--er--history, or the vagaries of youth. He--er--
came to California in '49. A year ago, touched by--er--er--
parental emotion and solicitude, my friend resolved to seek him
here. Believing that the--er--er--lawlessness of--er--er--
untrammelled youth and boyish inexperience might have led him into
some trifling indiscretion, we have sought him successively in
hospitals, alms-houses, reformatories, State's prisons, lunatic and
inebriate asylums, and--er--er--even on the monumental inscriptions
of the--er--er--country churchyards. We have thus far, I grieve to
say, although acquiring much and valuable information of a varied