“An’ she could easily go without that, she says, Mr. David. An’ she says soon she can send them to the children’s hospital in the city.”
“Give Bell Brandon my congratulations,” I bade Joey as I rode away.
I had been to the cabin on Hidden Lake but once since the accident to my wonder woman. I had gone there the following day to fetch Haidee’s mare. Wanza had gone with me and had brought away a few essential articles of clothing for her employer.
On my arrival I found that old Lundquist and the village hands had cleared away the debris, and that the work of restoring the lean-to was well under way.
I made a rough draft of the improvements Haidee and I had planned for the cabin, and drew up some specifications for the men, and then I strolled down to the lake. I was saying to myself that the cabin should be tight and sound for the fall rains, and that if Haidee would allow me I would further embellish it with a back porch and a rustic pergola like the one I had built for Joey at Cedar Dale, when I heard a splash in the water, a sudden swishing sound in the rushes, and saw a movement in the tules. I sprang to the water’s edge. Soon a canoe emerged from the green thickets.
Wanza sat in the canoe, plying the paddle. A triumphant light was on her face, her hands shone bronze in the sun, her red lips smiled mischievously. She called to me:
“I’ve run away! I had to get out on the river, I just had to! Mr. Dale, do you hear the yellow-throat singing ‘witchery—witchery—witchery’?”
I straightened my shoulders with a quick uplift of spirit. Her unexpected presence set my pulses beating a livelier measure. Her cornflower blue eyes rested on me, then wandered to the birch thickets along the shore, and she sat leaning slightly forward, her gaze remote, a charming figure in the sunlight.
“Would you like to hear me recite my little piece about the yellow-throat?”
“While May bedecks the naked trees