The Washington times., 1924-03-15

@e~SOeNSS NSNANA eeSs
have to waIk-not far" She could
scarcely breathe. She made
hasty shift in her plans. Now
she would have to send Mrs.
FariS away-the woman wouldn't
let her walk to the train. She
said to her: Didn't you say
you needed some clothes?"
.'Oh, there's no great hurry,
Mrs. Clayton. ! can go over
tomorrow and get them. Out
here in the wilderness we don't
fuss like city folks do. OF
course"
but you might as well go now.
feel fine. and there's q little
sun today. Go while it's FAIR"
Well, IL you don't mind--lt
won't take me long. Do you think
you'll be all right for an hour2"
why, yes~-I'm perfectly fine
today. Take your time. You
needn't come till g."
From the window ChiclZie saw
the stout. short figure and the
wind balloontng the wide skirts.
Mrs. Faris seemed to be driven
along. the wind was so stiff.
Chiclkie was alone. For
moment unable to move because
OF the excitement; Of the hush
and the fears.
She wrote q note:
Dear Agnes Robbins:.
my mother II dying. ] tuSt'got
word from my father Of Q horrible
automobile accident. She isn't ex.
pected to live through the night
They were on their way here from
the East to surprise me. This
morning in San Francisco another
machine crashed into them. I
must 60. / can't wait here. For
give me for this haste but you
can understand. intended ask.
ing Billie to drive me to tho
train but he's away. I was afraid
Mrp. Faris would try TO stop mo
from walking 80 sent her home.
Dear Agnes Robbins, you've been
an angel to me and I shall never
forget all your kindness. Don't
be angry with me now. What
else can do? I'm enclosing tho
money I owe you, also enough TO
cover the charges for kilograms
I've sent. I'll have q man call for
my trunk. I'm only taking q very
few Of the baby's things with me.
A thousand thanks to you. dear
Agnes. MERLE CLAYTON"
She pinned this envelope on the
basket where the baby lay. She
dressed-mumbling to herself, drop
ping her skirt, half sobbing all
the time: Hurry oh God -
hurry" She kept seeing Jennie
-panting-calling-a n d Jonathan
numbering to the door. straining
his eyes up and down the block
oh wondering why she wouldn't
come
She took a blanket and wrapped
the baby in it; laid it on her
bed. staring mutely at its quiet
face, touching it's hair. She Tan.
cied that It smiled at her.
Then she raised It swiftly, its
cheek against her neck, half hid.
den in the straggly fur Of her
coat. She crept down the stairs.
then through the empty kitchen.
And, lowering her head as one
breasting q storm, she passed
through the oaks to the river
road. Going to them-taking the
baby with her. The wind drove:
the leaves circled. And she hur-
ried.
A mile and q half to the train.
The train due in an hour. Oh,
she could walk that easily. In
four hours she would kneel at
Jennie's bed.
Jennie's sweet hand running
over her hair again; Jennie's
dear, faded eyes Drumming. Oh
her mother would know-know
her the very moment. She went
hurting along. her lips moving In
fever-a frantic thing.
1t took so long to get from tree
to tree. They seemed to move
away. The wind tore at her hat.
Hurry-quicker But her feet
were leaden--she drew short, hard
breaths.
And she sank down a moment.
resting. She drew her coat
tighter-oh, it was cold. She
held the baby close.
AS she did this there was a
twisting In her mind--a chill voice
that said Taking It to Jennie
lay 1t in Jennie's arrns!" She got
to her feet-shalSing. Every pulse
was shaking with stark vision
Of the yellow cottage, smiling at
Jonathan, walking into the han.
And baby in her arms!
She sat down again on a mound
Of earth. She opened the collar Of
her coat-hot now The wintry
sun was hot-or her blood was
fire.
Insane was she insa ne?
Imagine little Jennie and the hor.
ror In their hearts seeing their
Chickie-and all this-and the
hiding and the lies-and neighhors
peeking behind the shades-oh--
She sat mOtionleSs and numb.
The baby lying on her knees. She
put her hand on its face. It's lips
were blue. chilly. Poor little thing
so quiet. Keep It warm. She
opened her coat go and laid it's
face against her breast-a faint
weakness in her thoughts.
She said: IT can't do that-or
kill them" Stealing away from
them to keep it all so hushed-
never let Jonathan know-never.
And now to rush back blindly-
shout 1t to the world.
An idea flashed upon her. She
wondered why she hadn't thought
OF this before. She would go to
Dorothy Wreden in Stockton.
Dorothy would tell her of some
kind, efficient nurse. And she
would pay her well--pay her
enormously to keep the baby--oh
just for a while--just till she
could think--just till she could
know the thing to do
Yes-do that-then rush away
then rush to them. Make them
smile. Oh--never crush their
hearts Her anguish this-bear 1t
by herself-brave It alone
She felt stronger. She began to
hurry. She drew her coat because
the baby's face was cold. She