December 27, 1915

Gentlemen,

I write this letter in haste.

Thomas, I regret the dilemma I have caused. Julius and Anthony are somewhere on the Continental Divide in the snowstorm. They planned to go to a train station, and it could be Hot Sulphur.  JJ discovered du Bois deserted the war and escaped to Colorado. He intended to inform the sheriff. A brawl ensued in my parlor, with JJ knocked out and the men escaped skiing up the pass. I am safe with Julius’s dog, Charlie, and a restraining order, but Sheriff Chivington will be on the train to Denver for the conference pertaining to enforcing the new Prohibition Law. He might search for them. Please tell them if they arrive and help avoid more trouble.

My American aunt, the sister of my stepfather married for money and suffered an abusive marriage. She lived profoundly Victorian and was very important in shaping my youth. Her husband died young and she still has trouble believing her good fortune. She said many times, “The tragedy of love is not death or separation. The tragedy is indifference.”

I married for honor and penitence for my stupidity. I too have an abusive marriage but have dealt out as much as I have received. I love Julius and dragged him into this emotional quagmire.

Julius, my dearest, I pray you are safe and read this letter. It is your decision when to return. I do love you and am not the least indifferent to you. I realize a long holiday to Honolulu for a few months will let the dust settle. I can cash a bearer bond by summer, pay off JJ and divorce him. Your dog, my son and I will wait patiently and will be here for you. I sign with,

Remorse and Best Regards,

Corina Englehart

Ps: I have enclosed Julia’s unopened letter. Your sister and niece’s correspondence remain confidential.

Du Bois’s Condition

December 30, 1915

“I measured his temperature under the armpit and mouth. Both were 105 degrees. The green mucus, he coughed up, combined with clammy skin, chills and difficulty breathing are the symptoms of pneumonia. He has an appetite which is encouraging. The local physician confirmed my opinion. He shouldn’t travel to Denver and to San Francisco, it would kill him.” Uncle Thomas pointed at the basin on the bedside table. “Cool him down with the wet cloth some more.”

I placed a cool, soaked wash cloth on his forehead, wiped in a circular motion to his shoulders and contemplated my uncle’s statement and said, “He’ll miss the train and Captain Reynold’s ship to Hawaii. The sheriff might be searching for him, as Corina wrote, but he’ll be safer here and recover quicker in bed.”

Thomas speculated, “Perhaps he can travel in a week, if his fever breaks. We’ll continue with physical and pharmaceutical antipyretics. He’ll have continued shortness of breath especially traveling at high altitude on the Moffat Road over James Peak. We aren’t considering the frost bite. He’ll have pain in his feet for a while.”

Du Bois murmured, “Cold good.”

“Right mate, just rest,” I encouraged and glanced at my uncle, “I’m not leaving him.”

“He’s delirious and thinks he’s going insane. A friendly face is good, and besides I don’t want you going back to Steamboat and Corina or even writing to her. I’m worried about your health and well-being too. It would be wise for you and Anthony to keep an anonymous low profile and this is a good place for that. I welcome you to stay in my home.”