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Updated: June 13, 2025
I don't want to hurt his life and yours; I couldn't hurt my man and and the babies waiting back there for me. But lil' Ann!" The name came like a sob. And somehow Lynda thought of Burke Lawson! Burke, who had done his strong best, and still could not keep himself in control because of lil' Ann! The helpless baby was oh! yes, yes it was Truedale's responsibility.
"There never was, White. I understood." "Shake!" They got through the day somehow. The crust was forming over Truedale's suffering; he no longer had any desire to let even White break through it. Once, during the afternoon, the sheriff spoke of Nella-Rose and without flinching Truedale listened. "That gal will have Burke eatin' out o' her hand in no time.
It was this slowness in reaching a decision that most defeated Truedale's best interest. While he deplored it he seemed incapable of overcoming it. Alone in the little room, later, he let himself go. Burying his tired head upon his folded arms he gave himself up to waves of recollection that threatened to engulf him. Everything was as it always had been a glance proved that.
The unreality of the thing gradually wore upon Truedale's tense nerves. If anything was going to happen he wanted it to happen! In another half-hour he meant to put an end to the farce and move his belongings back to the cabin and take Nella-Rose home. It was a nightmare nothing less! "Sh!" and then the waiting was over. Two dark figures, guns ready, stole from the woods behind White's cabin.
They walked sedately for an hour. The dog longed to gambol; he was young enough to associate outdoors with license; but being a friend as well as a dog, he felt that this was rather a time for close comradeship, so he pattered along at his master's heels and once in a while pushed his cold nose into the limp hand swinging by Truedale's side. "Thank God!"
Lynda Kendall closed her desk and wheeled about in her chair with a perplexed expression on her strong, handsome face. Generally speaking, she went her way with courage and conviction, but since Conning Truedale's breakdown, an element in her had arisen that demanded recognition and she had yet to learn how to control it and insist upon its subjection.
But this hope and vision did not banish entirely Truedale's growing sorrow for the part he must inevitably take when the truth was known to Lynda and Brace. Harder and harder the telling of it appeared as the time drew near. Never had they seemed dearer or more sacred to him than now when he realized the hurt he must cause them.
"Will you tell me I could not go into this with McPherson, somehow; he didn't see it my way, naturally will you tell me what would have become of the the fortune had I not married you?" The deathly whiteness of Lynda's face did not stay Truedale's hard words; he was not thinking of her even of himself; he was thinking of the irony of fate in the broad sense. "The money would have come to me."
Truedale's faith in me, when I gave him so little to go by, is both flattering and touching. He knew he could trust me and that knowledge is the best thing he bequeathed to me. But I expect you to do your part, boy, and by so doing to justify much that might, otherwise, be questioned. To begin with, as you have just heard, the sanatorium for cases like your uncle's is to be begun at once.
He smiled grimly and thought of the little no-count and the tragedy of the white bantam. In the shining light around him he seemed to see her pitiful face as White had described it the eyes full of tears but never overflowing, the misery and hate, the loneliness and impotency. At two the next morning Jim tapped on Truedale's window with his gun. "Comin' fur a walk?" "You bet!"
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