Starting at the dream of stain!”
I cleared my throat and spoke as hopefully as I could. “Let us forget as well as we can, little girl. Let us look forward to your release. You will tell the truth at the trial, and you will be believed. And then—you will forget—you will start all over again! You must let me help you, Wanza, in many ways. I have a piece of good news for you even now. I have found Joey.”
But I did not tell her Joey’s story, until my next visit.
I learned from Haidee’s attorney that Randall Batterly had been buried in Roselake cemetery, and that Mrs. Olds had been sent for and was staying with Haidee. That afternoon Buttons carried a double burden over the trail to Hidden Lake. I went in alone to Haidee, leaving Joey in the woods. My heart was too overcharged for free speech, but I told Haidee that I had found Joey in an abandoned cabin and I told her all that Wanza had told me of the part she had played in the accidental shooting of Randall Batterly, and later I said to her:
“I have something strange to communicate to you. But first, I am going to ask you if you will tell me the story of your life after you became Randall Batterly’s wife.”
Haidee lifted her head at my request and straightened her shoulders with an indrawn spasmodic breath. “I have always intended to tell you my story, some day,” she answered. Lines of pain etched themselves upon her brow.
“I think if you will tell me you will not regret it,” I replied.
“I have always intended to tell you,” she repeated. Her voice shook but she lifted brave eyes to mine, and began her story.
“I married Randall Batterly eight years ago, when I was eighteen, soon after my father died. He took me to Alaska, and—and Baby was born there. When my little one was two years old, I had a very severe attack of pneumonia. While I was still ill Mr. Batterly was obliged to make a trip to Seattle, and it was decided that Baby was to go with him, and be left with my mother there until I was stronger,—I think the good nurse I had scarcely expected me to recover. Mr. Batterly had always been a drinking man, though I was unaware of this when I married him. On the steamer he drank so heavily that he was in his stateroom in a drunken stupor most of the time, he afterwards confessed. Then—there was a storm and a collision in the night—and the ship Mr. Batterly was on went down off Cape Flattery. Mr. Batterly was rescued by a man who shared his stateroom—a man he had known for years. But my little boy—my Baby—was never seen again.”
In the silence that followed, Haidee shuddered and closed her eyes, biting her lips that were writhing and gray. After a short interval she went on in a low, strained tone: