I know a storm isn't a civilized thing.Well,I know what I'm going to do,--I'm going to come back and blow the rest of my life right there in the cove,with my Brick and my Bill.
So that's my news,that I'm dissatisfied with the big world.It isn't like I'd have made it,that's the truth!Now I'll lay this letter aside to cool (I mean IT,and ME,too)and I'll not send it until something about Red Kimball happens,so you'll be posted on what really matters.After all,people that marry for money aren't important,they don't belong to big affairs--but there's something worth discussing in a plot to commit murder.That MEANS something;as Brick would say,it's 'vital.'These people about me,kind,gentle,correct,--all their waking thoughts are devoted to little things--fashionable trifles that last no longer than the hour in which they're born--just time-killers.I enjoy these pleasing trifles,but my eyes are opened and I know they ARE trifles.These people's eyes are not opened.Why?Because they haven't lived in the West,neighboring with real things like alkali plains and sand-storms and granite mountains.
My!but it would open their eyes if one of their dearest friends was in danger of getting himself hanged!Something permanent in THAT!
LATER:This is midnight.I expect to leave as soon as I possibly can,but probably this letter will get away first,so here's something new to put your mind on;it's rather dreadful,when you give it a calm thought.But my thoughts are not calm.Far from it.Oh,how excited I was!But I guess THEY didn't know it.It all happened about an hour ago,and you can see that my hand is still a little shaky.