published, it appeared, while I was absent in the East.
"By the way," said Morgan, "the name of the gulch is a corruption; it should have been called 'MacGregor's.' My dear," he added, speaking to his wife, " Mr. Elderson has upset his wine."
That was hardly accurate—I had simply dropped it, glass and all.
"There was an old shanty once in the gulch," Morgan resumed when the ruin wrought by my awkwardness had been repaired, " but just previously to my visit it had been blown down, or rather blown away, for its débris was scattered all about, the very floor being parted, plank from plank. Between two of the sleepers still in position I and my companion observed the remnant of a plaid shawl, and examining it found that it was wrapped about the shoulders of the body of a woman, of which but little remained besides the bones, partly covered with fragments of clothing, and brown dry skin. But we will spare Mrs. Morgan," he added with a smile. The lady had indeed exhibited signs of disgust rather than sympathy.
"It is necessary to say, however," he went on, "that the skull was fractured in several
