The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-05-10


 than K. Mcclure, and he starts
 on journey. He is not feeling
 very chipper. He is thinking of
 the last days in Russia and of
 friends killed before his eyes.
 AND HERE IT CONTINUES
 Peter Nichols straighrened and passed hand across his damp fore head. Through the perspective of this modern civilization what had been passing before his vision seemed very vague, very distant. but he knew that It was not a dream. All about him was life, progress, industry, hope-a nation in the mak- ing, proud of her brief history which had been built around an ideal If he could bring this same ideal back to RUssiai In his heart he thanked God for America-imperfect though she was, and made a VOW that in the task he had set for himself he should not be found wanting.
 Twice ne changed trains, the sec ond time at a small junction amid an uGliness of clay-pfts and brickyards and dust and heat. There were per haps 20 people on the platform. lie walked the length of the station and as he did so @ man in a gray suit disappeared around the corner of the building. But Peter Nichols did not
 
 his new train in a wooden car, which reminded him of some of the ancient rolling stock of the St. Petersburg and Moscow railroad, he was taken haltingly and noisily along the last stage of his journey.
 With Wheeze of steam and a loud cracking Of woodwork and creaking of brakes the train came to a stop and the conductor shouted the name of the station. Rather stiffly the trav- eler descended with his bag and stood upon the small platform looking about him curiously. The baggage man tossed out a. bundle of newspa- train moved off. Apparently. Peter Nichols was the or'y passenger with PickereI River as q, destination.
 The station was small, of but one room and a tiny office containing, as he could see a teleghaph instrument, a broken chair with a leather cusn- ion. a shelf and a rack containing few soiled slips of paper, but the office had no occupant and the door was locked. This perhaps explained the absence of the autom obile which MT. Sheldon had informed him would meet him in obedience to his tele- gram announcing the hour of his ar rival Neither within the building nor without wts there any person or
 
 small birds f1uttering and quarreling along the telegraph wires.
 There was but one road, a sandy one, wearing marks of travel which emerged from the scrub oak and pine and definitely concluded at the rail- road track. This, then, was his di- reCtion, and after reassuring himself that there was no other means of egress, he took up his black suitcase and set forth into the wood, aware of a sense of beckoning adventure. The road wound in and out. up and down, over what at one time must have been the floor of the ocean, which could not be far distant. Had it not been for the weight of his bag Peter would have enjoyed the experience of this complete isolation, the fragra mt siIences broken only by the whisper of the leaves and the scurrying of tiny wild things among the dead tree branches. But he had no means of knowing how far he would have to travel or whether, indeed there had not been some mistake on Sheldon Seniors part or his own. But the directions had been quite clear and the road must, of course, lead some where-to some village or settlem ent at least where he could get lodging for the night.
 And so he trudged on through the woods which already seemed to be partaking of some of the mystery which surrounded the person of Joa- athan k. Mcclure. The whole mel dent had been unusual and the more interesting because of the strange character of his employer and the ev- ident fear he had of some latent evil which threatened him. But Peter Nichols had accepted his commission with a sense of profound relief at escaping the other fate that awaited him, with scarcely a thought of the dangers which his acceptance might entail, He was not easily frightened and had welcomed the new adven- ture, dismissins the fears of Joha- than K. Mcclure as imaginary, the emanations of age or an uneasy con- science.
 But as he went on. his bag became heavier and the precipitation poured town his face, so reaching a cross path that seemed to show signs of re- cent travel he put the suitcase down and sat on it while he wiped hi: brow The shadows were growing longer. He was beginning to believe that there was no such place as Black Rock, no such person as Iona. than K Mcclure and that Seldon Senior, and Sheldon. Junior, were en. gagged in a conspiracy against hi, peace of mind. when above the now familiar whisperinEs of the forest ht heard a new sound. Faintly il came a first as though from a great dis. tance, rlAngling with the murmur O. [ the signing wind in the pine trees a voices inging.
 It seemed a chiId's voice-deIicate clear, true, as carefree as the note ot a bird-unleashing its joy to the heavens.
 Peter Nichols started up. listening mere tnteutlya The sounds were com. iAS nearer. but he couldn't tell iron