Tuesday Nite.
Nov. 3, 1925.

My dearest Sweetheart:

No letter today, but I can look forward to one tomorrow. When I miss a day, I appreciate it even more than ever when it does come.

November 3, 1925

The main excitement in our little town at present is the mysterious disappearance of our young Presbyterian minister. He left here on the train on the morning of Oct. 7 for Brownsville to attend a meeting by the Presbytery there, but he failed to reach his destination nor has he returned to Uvalde. The last time he was seen was by a San Antonio friend at the Union Station in San Antonio on the morning of Oct. 7. Where he is and what has happened, no one knows. He was only twenty-four years old, has been married about a year and a half and this is his first charge (Uvalde I mean). He came straight from school in Virginia and accepted the pastorate here. His wife and baby are here too. I feel so sorry for her. She is an orphan, but her Aunt is with her now. Some people seemed to think he was murdered, but I can’t imagine what in the world would possess anybody to select him to murder. Positively, I can’t think of anyone on earth who looked and seemed more innocent and harmless. The supposition now seems to be that he is suffering from a lapse of memory and has wandered away. Quite a bit of money has been raised by the Uvalde citizens to be used in searching for him. It is being widely advertised, a reward is offered, and all other methods are being used, but so far without success. He is the fourth man who has mysteriously disappeared from this and surrounding communities recently. One from Sabinal was found about a week later, drowned in the Sabinal river. He was rather old and subject to frequent spells of loss of reason, so that accounts for that. But as for the preacher, we know not.

Now! I’ve told your bedtime story, so good night and sweet dreams.

I love you!

Your own
Ina.