"Then came the shooting at the Clark place, and I rode over that night
in a howling storm and helped the coroner and a Norada doctor in the
examination. All the evidence was against Clark, especially his running
away. But I happened on Hattie Thorwald outside on a verandah--she'd
been working at the house--and I didn't need any conversation to tell me
what she thought. All she said was: "He didn't do it, doctor. He's still in the mountains."
"He's been here to-night, Hattie, and you know it. He shot the wrong
man."
"But she swore he hadn't been, and at the end I didn't know. I'll say
right now that I don't know. But I'll say, too, that I believe that
is what happened, and that Hines probably stayed hidden that night on
Hattie Thorwald's place. I went there the next day, but she denied it
all, and said he was still in the mountains. She carried on about the
blizzard and his being frozen to death, until I began to think she was
telling the truth.
"The next day I did what only a tenderfoot would do, started into the
mountains alone. Bill and Jake were out with a posse after Clark, and
I packed up some food and started. I'll not go into the details of that
trip. I went in from the Dry River Canyon, and I guess I faced death a
dozen times the first day. I had a map, but I lost myself in six hours.
I had food and blankets and an axe along, and I built a shelter and
stayed there overnight. I had to cut up one of my blankets the next
morning and tie up the horse's feet, so he wouldn't sink too deep in the
snow. But it stayed cold and the snow hardened, and we got along better
after that.
"I'd have turned back more than once, but I thought I'd meet up with
some of the sheriff's party. I didn't do that, but I stumbled on a
trail on the third day, toward evening. It was the trail made by John
Donaldson, as I learned later. I followed it, but I concluded after a
while that whoever made it was lost, too. It seemed to be going in a
circle. I was in bad shape and had frozen a part of my right hand, when
I saw a cabin, and there was smoke coming out of the chimney."
From that time on David's statement dealt with the situation in the
cabin; with Jud Clark and the Donaldsons, and with the snow storm, which
began again and lasted for days. He spoke at length of his discovery of
Clark's identity, and of the fact that the boy had lost all memory of
what had happened, and even of who he was. He went into that in detail;
the peculiar effect of fear and mental shock on a high-strung nature,
especially where the physical condition was lowered by excess and
wrong-living; his early attempts, as the boy improved, to pierce the
veil, and then his slow-growing conviction that it were an act of mercy
not to do so. The Donaldsons' faithfulness, the cessation of the search
under the conviction that Clark was dead, both were there, and also
David's growing liking for Judson himself. But David's own psychology
was interesting and clearly put.