The Ocala evening star., 1911-06-08
CHAPTER l.
THE HEsITATING STEP.


snow. ] watched these clouds
as drove recklessly. desperately :
over the winter roads. l had just
missed the desire of my life, the one
precious treasure which | coveted
with my whole undisciplined heart
and. not being what you call u man
Of self restraint. was chafed by
my defeat far beyond the bounds
have usually set for myself.
| rode on. hardly conscious Of my
course, till the rapid recurrence Of
several well known landmarks warned
me that l had taken the longest route
home and that In another moment
should be skirting the grounds Of the
Whispering Pines, our country club
house The season was over and the
clubhouse closed. and when. the great
stack Of chimneys coming suddenly
into view against the broad disk OF
the still unclouded moon. l perceived
thin trail of smoke soaring up from
their midst l realized with a shock
that there should be no such sign Of
life In a house | myself had closed.
locked and barred that very day.
l was the president of the club and
felt responsible. | turned in at the
lower gateway. For reasons which /
need not now state there were no
bells attached to my cutter, and con-
seOuently my approach was noiseless.
| was careful that 1t should be so; also
careful to stop short of the front door
and leave my horse and sleigh in the
black depths of the pine grove. press
| a.. tlo lls ci6
was sure that all was not as 1t should
be inside these walls.
Our clubhouse stands. as It may be
necessary to remind you. on knoll
thickly wooded with the ancient trees
| have mentioned. These trees-all
pines and of growth unusual and
Of an aspect well nigh hoary-extend
only to the rear end of the house,
where q wide stretch of gently un-
dulating ground opens at once upon
the eye. suggesting to all lovers Of
golf the admirable use to which 1t Is
put from early spring to latest fall.
Now links as we'll as parterres and
driveways were lying under an even
blanket of winter snow. No other
building stood with half mile In any
direction.
felt the isolation as stepped from
the edge Of the trees and prepared to
cross the few feet Of open space lead
ing to the main door. In some moods
should have paused and thought
twice before attempting the Goor, be-
hind which in the dark lurked the un-
known with its naturally accompany
ing suggestion Of peril. But rage and
disappointment, working hotly within
me, had left no space for fear. Rather
rejoicing In the doubtfulness Of the
adventure, l pushed my way over the
snow until my feet struck the steps.
Here instinct caused me to stop and
glance quickly up and down the build
ing either way. Not CLEAN OF light
met my eye from the smallest scintil-
lating pane. Was the house as sound
less as 1t was dark?
listened, but heard nothing. I listen
ed again and still heard nothing. Then
proceeded boldly up the steps and
laid my hand on the door.
It was unlatched and yielded TO my
touch. Light or no light. sound or nc
sound. there was some one within
The fire which had sent its attenuated
streak of smoke up into the moonli-
air was burning yet on one Of the
many hearths within. | proceeded tc
enter and close the door carefully be
hind me. As ! did so | cast an invol
untary glance without The sky wa,
tnky. and a few wandering flakes O
the now rapidly advancing storm
came whirling in. biting my cheeks
and stinging my forehead.
Once inside 1 stopped short. possibly
to listen again. possibly to assure my
self as to what | had best do next
The silence was profound Not a
sound disturbed the great, empty build
ing My own football as | stirred
seemed 70 wake extraordinary echoes.
/ had moved but a few steps, yet 10
my heightened senses the noise seemed
loud enough to wake the dead In
stnctively | stopped and stood stock
still. There was no answering cessa
ton of movement-darkness, silence
. everywhere. Yet not quite absolute
darkness. AS my eyes grew accustom
ed to the place | found II possible to
S'eoA-r the outlines of ths wtndnus