I jumped into the automobile and drove as fast as I could to the
offices of Simpson and Todd, the best criminal lawyers in the state, to
retain them as council for Helen. Simpson had already gone home, but
George Todd was there, and I talked the case over with him.
"You can get a stay of proceedings, can't you?" I asked.
"Surely," he replied. "I'll see that the warrant isn't served until
Mrs. Felderson's doctor assures me she is out of danger. The trial
needn't come off for three or four months--six if you wish. We can see
to that. In the meantime, when will you be able to see Mrs. Felderson?"
"I was going up there now," I answered. "The chances are the doctor
won't let me question her yet, but it may be we can see her. Will you
come with me?"
"I'd like very much to. Wait till I get my coat!"
We ran up to the hospital and asked if we could be admitted if only for
a few moments to Mrs. Felderson's room. Johnson, the little interne
with the glasses, had just come in, and when he heard my request he was
splutteringly indignant.
"What the devil do you think Mrs. Felderson is suffering from, a broken
ankle? Don't you realize she has been desperately ill? If you tried
to question her now, she'd become excited and it might result in a
serious relapse. Of course you can't see her! You won't be able to
talk to her for two or three weeks yet."
"I'm sorry," I said, "I should have known better. It was stupid of me,
but then, I've been little else than stupid for days. This tragedy has
been too much for me. You will let me know as soon as she can be seen,
won't you, Johnson?"
"I'll let you know," he murmured. "You may be able to _see_ her
to-morrow, but I won't let you bother her with any infernal questions
until she is well."
The week passed only too slowly. Each day I went to the hospital and
sat for a brief fifteen or twenty minutes by Helen's side. She was
fully conscious and I thought I could see at times that there were
questions she wanted to ask me. Remembering the doctor's emphatic
instructions, I said very little, never asking any questions, only
telling her a few of the unimportant happenings of the town. She
seemed uninterested and lay apathetically quiescent except when some
apparently perplexing question corrugated her brows. They told her of
Jim's death early in the week, but far from being shocked, she had
appeared almost indifferent, showing only too plainly how little he
meant in her life. Woods she never referred to.
Mary, of course, was her devoted slave, hardly leaving her bedside, and
in our daily meetings at the hospital, I fell more and more in love
with her, if such a thing were possible. Once when I was coming up the
corridor with a large bunch of flowers, I met her outside Helen's door.
As she took the blooms from me, she reached up and patted my cheek.
"Bupps, you're a darling to bring these lovely flowers to Helen every
day. I think you're quite the nicest brother a girl could have."
"If you think that, why won't you have me?" I asked.
"I think I will----" she answered, smiling, "for a brother."
She started to open the door, but I grasped her hand.
"Mary, do be serious! You know I love you."
She haughtily drew herself up in all the majesty of her five feet three
inches and commanded: "Unhand me, villain! I spurn your tempting
offer." Then earnestly, "Let me go, Bupps! I've got to put these
flowers away."
With a quick wrench she freed herself and was gone, leaving me half
sick with love of her.
After the first sensational extra, the newspapers had said but little
of Helen's and Frank's indictment. Somehow I was confident that Helen
would be able to clear herself. Woods had published a statement in
which he said he would be able to prove where he was every minute of
the evening of the tragedy, and so had had no difficulty in finding
bail. In fact, since the indictment, he seemed to have gained a good
deal of sympathy and popularity. Every one who knew of his devotion to
Helen felt that he had indicted himself to try to save her.
One morning, about a week after my interview with the be-spectacled
interne, I met Doctor Forbes as he was coming from Helen's room and he
gave me permission to ask her a few questions.
"I'm trusting to your good sense, Thompson, not to overdo it," Forbes
cautioned. "Remember, she is still in a very weak condition and don't
be surprised if she fails to respond to your questions as you expect.
Above all things, do not refer in any way to the fact that she has been
indicted, the shock might be too much for her."
"Thank you, Doctor," I replied, eager to get away, "I'll be very
careful."
"And remember, no more than ten minutes this first time."
I nodded and opened the door. Helen was propped up in bed and showed
unmistakably the great suffering she had been through. She was pale
and wan, but smiled when she saw me and gave me her cheek to kiss.
"Good morning," she whispered. "The flowers were lovely."
"I'm glad you liked them, Sis, dear," I said, sitting down by the side
of her bed.
I asked her the usual questions, how she felt and if she wanted
anything, and then tried to lead up to the only question that was of
any consequence to either of us.
"Helen, dear, there are certain questions about your accident that have
puzzled us. The doctor said that you could talk for ten minutes this
morning and I want to ask you some questions."
"Wait a minute!" she interrupted. "Did the doctor say I might really
talk this morning?"
"Yes, dear."
"There are a hundred questions then that you must answer me. I want to
know so many things." She looked away and passed a thin hand over her
forehead. Finally she turned her big brown eyes toward me and said:
"First, tell me who I am!"
For a brief second I felt numb all through. My brain whirled until I
thought my head would burst.
"Helen, dear, what did you say?"
My speech was thick, as though my tongue was swollen. Still keeping
her gaze fixed on me, she continued:
"They call me Helen, and I gather that you are my brother. There is a
beautiful girl who comes here every day. She and I seem to be great
friends, but I don't know her, I have heard them call her Mary; tell me
who she is!"
If I could have run from the room I should have done so. A horror
gripped me such as I never felt before. Then I saw two large tears
tremble in Helen's eyes, overflow and course down her cheeks and I
gathered all the strength that I could muster for the task of trying to
awaken a memory that had apparently ceased to function.
"Helen, dearest little sister, I am your brother. The beautiful girl
you speak of is Mary Pendleton, one of the best and truest friends you
ever had. She was your bridesmaid, don't you remember?"
Helen shook her head weakly.
"I have been married, then?" she asked.
"You were married to James Felderson. Can't you remember him?" I
begged.
Again she shook her head. "No. It's all gone." She thought hard a
minute, then she asked: "He is dead--my husband?"
"Yes," I muttered, trying to keep the tears back, "he was killed in the
same accident--"
"What was he like?" she interrupted.
"Helen, think!" I cried, fighting blindly against the terror that was
choking me. "Little sister. You must think--_hard_. Jim. Don't you
remember big handsome Jim?" I snatched my watch from my pocket and
opened the back, where I carried a small picture of Jim, taken years
before. I had put it there in boyish admiration when I first knew him.
I held it up in front of her eyes. "You must remember him, Helen!"
She gazed at the picture with eyes in which there were tears and a
little fright, but not a spark of recognition. Fearing that I was
over-exciting her, I sat close to her and drew as best I could a mental
picture of Jim. I was only half-way through the recital when the door
opened and Doctor Forbes came in.
"The ten minutes are up, Mr. Thompson."