“To return to the subject,” I said as soon as Wing Lee’s shuffling
footsteps had receded down the rough board hallway. “I saw you cutting
cards this afternoon, but I didn’t see you after that.”
She looked at me steadily.
“I went to Ed Boswell with the same proposition,” she said. “That
homestead was all we had. I cannot carry on litigation for it. I haven’t
the money.”
“And you wanted it that bad!” I exclaimed incredulously.
“Certainly not!” she snapped, her eyes blazing into mine. “What do you
think I am?” And then, her fury subsiding, she went on. “Pardon me, I
forgot that you could not know. My uncle and I owned each a half
interest. My own interest I care nothing about, but there was a girl, a
child of my uncle’s who is East in school. She is a helpless, lovable
little kitten, impractical—perhaps weak. The homestead has been paying a
good income, and will pay much more now that the water has been
discovered. I am fighting for that girl. To have her income stopped will
mean ... well it will mean much to her. She is easily influenced.”