The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1916-05-29

cuIvert which Spanned a bSawling DOT ter coIored river. I looked out and saw that every carriage window was closed and no human figure appeared in the landscape.
 So I opened the door and dropped quickly into the tangle of hazels which edged the line.
 It would have been all right but for that internal dog. Under the impres- sion that was decnmping with its mas ter's belongings it started to bark and all hut got me by the trousers. This woke up the herd who stood bawling at the carriage door in the belief that had committed suicide.
 crawled through the thicket, reach ed the edge of the stream and in cover of the bushes put a hundred yards or so behtad Ea.
 Then from my shelter I peered back and saw the guard had several passen- gers gathered around the open carriage door and staring in my direction. could not have made more public de- parture if I had left with a bugler and a brass band.
 Happily the drunken herd provided a diversion. He and his dog, which was attached by a rope to his waist, sud denly cascaded out of the carriage, landed on their heads on the track and rolled some way down the bank to- ward the water Tn the rescue which followed the dog bit somebody, for I could hear the sound of hard swear ing.
 Presently they had forgotten me, and when after quarter of a miles crawl I ventured to look back the train had started again and was vanishing in the cutting. a
 was in wide seInicircle of moor land, with the brown river as radius and the high h1ls forming the north ern circumference. There was not sign or sound of human being, oni. the splashing water and the intermina ble crying of eurlews. Yet, oddl! enough, for tke first time felt the ter hOr of the hunted on me.
 It was not the police that thought of, but the other folk, who knew that [ knew Scudder's secret and dared not let me live. [ was certain that they would pursue me with keenness and vigilance unkpown to the British law and that once their grip closed on me should find no mercy
 q I looked back, but there was nothing in the landscape
 The sun glinted on the metals of the line and the wet stones in the Wtream, and you could not have found a more peaceful sight in the world. Neverthe7 less I started to run Crouching low in the runnels of the bog, ran till the sweat blinded my eyes. The mood did not leave me till I had reached the rim of mountain and flung myself, panting, on ridge high above the young waters of the brown river.
 From my vantage ground could Gcan the whole moor right away to the railway line and to the south of it, where green fields took the place of heather. I have eyes like a hawk, but I could see nothing moving in the whole countryside.
 Then I looked east beyond the ridge and saw a new kind of landscape-shal low green valleys with plentiful fl plantations and the faint lines of dust which spoke of highroads..
 Last of all looked into the blue Ma. sky, and therS I saw that which sci my pulses racing. Low down in the south nnonoplane was climbing into the heavens. I was as certain as if I had been told that that aeropIane was looking for me and that it did not
 
 two I watched it from pit of heather It flew low along the hilltops and then in narrow circles back over the valley up which had come. Then it seemed to change its mind, rose to a great height and flew away badk to the south did not like this espionage from the air, and I began to think less well of the countryside had chosen for a refuge These heather hills were no sort of cover if my enemies were in the sky. I must find a different kind of sanctuary.
 I looked with more satisfaction to the green country beyond the ridge for there should find woods and stone housesl
 About in the evening I came out of the moorland to white ribbon of road which wound up the narrow vale of a lowland stream. As followed 1t fields gave place to banks, the glen became a plateau, and presently I had reached a kind of pass where a soli- tary house smoked in the twilight.
 The roa6 swung over a bridge, and leaning o6 the parapet was a man.
 He was smoking a long clay pipe and studying the water with specta- cIed eyes. In his left hand was small book, with finger marking the place. Slowly he repeated- ,1 As when Gryphen through the wilder
 ness,
 With winged step. OCT hill and noory
 dale
 Pursues the Ari1naspfan-
 He jrmped~ round as my step rung on the keystone, and saw pleasant, sunburnt,. boyish face.
 "Good evening to you,f' he said grave ly. S'It's fine night for the road.'' 2
 The smell of wood smoke and of some savory roast doated to me from the house. ''Is that place an tnn?" I asked.
 At your service" he said politely.