The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1919-06-10
Stepped Out AnxiousIy.

mountain she merely lifted her chin
higher, and let him understand his Pc
etry had not registered.
Not that he appeared to mind her
| attitude, she had to admit He was
pleasant, rather plain young man.
| who had boarded at Mrs. McCurdy's
farm for the fall and winter painting
scenes of mountain snow and keeping
to himself. Mac had told them he was
an artist one day when he had brought
them down a load of firelogs from his
woodlot.
She had liked Mac. He was straight
| to the point and comradely. They had
known him ever since they had come
to Red Indian for Jess health, and he
had been a stanch friend and neigh
Dor. Now and then he ran down to
New York for few weeks, but he al
ways came back with a fresh load of
| new books and magazines, and shared
them royalty. He was rather broad
shouldered and stocky in build, with
curly reddish hair and blue eyes that
had habit of twinkling when he did
| not feel like speaking.
Frances had. liked him because she
could talk freely to him. Nearly all
men expected you to either fall in love
with them, she had decided, or to re-
spect them. But Mac understood every
thing. They had gone on long tramps
together through the mountain roads,
and when the snow had fairly drifted
over their little shack it had been Mac
who came down and shoveled them out,
and brought food from his own store
to them.
So she felt now she could speak to
him about the poetry. and get a sensi-
BILE unbiased opinion on what she
ought to do.
1.-THE main question is" Mac said, as
soon as he heard about it, "is whether
1t is good poetry"
at seems very sincere" Frances ad-
mitted, not realizing what a delightfully."-
comforting picture she made in her
brown cloak and fur cap against the
masses of crisp leather-tinted oak
leaves drying on the trees and the deep
green of pines beyond. 81 wonder Il
II is meant for me or for Jess"
"Her eyes are blue, aren't they7
never noticed yours, exactly"
"Oh, mine are rather changeabie
hazel and gray and green. Cats eyes,
She turned them on him gravely. 'DC
you think it is Sandy?"
Mac chuckled.
Cant tell. Poetry's liable to breat
out anywhere just like measles"
Frances pondered a few minutes
then said:
II know what I'll do, Mac. He leave,
them on Fridays, I've found out Tn
going to watch and see who it IS. Or
no. that wouldn't do / watch unit
twelve, then you get up at five ant
watch, will your"
Mac agreed it would be good plan
only he was certain not even poe
would brave the trip up the mountain
at five In February to slip poetry undel
the door. 1t must have been left ii
the evening, but he would watch on tn,
following Friday.
Frances did not tell her sister. jess
had way of laughing at serious
things, but she knew when Mac cam'
on guard, for she caught a glimpse o
him ih the bright moonlight, standing
like sentinel over in the shadow O
the pines by the roadway. He wa
ready to whistle sharply like an owl t.
give the alarm, and Frances waited
in the shack long after Jess was sount
asleep. Finally it came, little befor'
twelve, one long, tremulous whistle
She slipped her fur coat around he
and stepped out anxiously. No on
was In sight, and there were no fresl
footprints on the stone doorstep, blu
Mac waited for her.
'Did-did he Gomez" she whispered
when she had stolen over to him, ant
Lac assured her he had.