Evening star., 1927-12-11

From these preliminaries a very
pretty quarrel emerged proceeding
| briskly for some five minutes or so.
| at the end of which time the usual
reconciliation was in sight.
| Half an hour later an unwonted
silence had fallen upon the Mannings'
house-the sort of silence which was
only possible when it's mistress was
either out or fast asleep. Lacy was,
in fact, slumbering comfortably and
be1omingly beneath a pink silk elder
down. Miss Possiter also slept-an
uneasy sleep haunted by dreams in
which she continually looped the loop.
| Manning was out: and Brooks had
withdrawn himself to the seclusion
of the basement. The house was ex-
traordinarily quiet,
1t was to this quietneSS and still
ness that the man in the spare room
awoke. Lying on his back with his
arms outside the coverlet, he stretched
| himself, yawned. and opened his eyes.
A series of vague impressions pre-
sented themselves at once to his
! half-awakened consciousness - day
| light--nice room-very comfortable
bed-rather too warm-oh, yes! Much
too warm-hot!
He pushed back the bedclothes, sat
up. and put his hands to his head
with the instructive movement of
man about to run his fingers through
his hair His hands touched a ban
| dage, and at the touch he came
broad awake. A bandage-there was
certainly a bandage about his head.
! He felt 1t gingerly. and was reas-
sured. His head felt all right, little
| Wobbly perhaps, but nothing more.
| Come to think of it, he remembered
being hit.
They had gone up, struck that
beastly fog and lost their bearings.
He knew not where they had got to
or who was firing. But he remem-
bered being hit. His hand went up
again and fingered the bandage over
his right temple. That was all. He
couldn't remember past that, except
for an interminable, long dream. in
which he was always being ordered
about and doing all sorts of things
that he'd never really done in his
life.
He drew his feet up and locked his
arms about his knees. Very queer
things. dreams. You'd expect a man
to dream about things he knew some
thing about; and here he'd been
dreaming miles and miles of an end
les; dream about hoeing roots and
plowing a long, narrow field set round
with trees. Queerest of all, in his
dream he had been a German. Crazy,
absolutely. But there it was.
He stretched and yawned again,
then with a sudden movement pushed
thu bedclothes right back and swung
his legs out of bed. He sat on the
edge of the bed, blinking hard and
staring at his own bare knees. They
had put him to bed in his shirt. He
| picked up the hem and fingered it
blue and white checked stuff very
old and faded. He'd never had a
shirt like that in his life. Yes. he
had-not really, but in the dream.
He sprang to his feet frowning.
! Where in the world. was he? What
was this house? Not a hospital, for
there was a carpet on the floor and
curtains at the windows. He must
have been knocked out, and then
some one had picked him up, carried
him off to an eXpensively furnished
house, and put him to bed in some
other fellows shirt. The whole thing
got queerer every moment.
He crossed the room and stood by
the window looking out. What he
| saw told him very little--a narrow
strip of garden, a few bare trees, and
a gray sky over all; other trees to
right and left other town gardens.
He was in a town. What town?
And how long had he been here? How
long was it since he had been hit? 1t
was the 18th of November when
they had gone up-a topping morn
ing before they ran into the fog. He
! looked again at the trees in the mar.
row garden. To the eye of a boy
| brought up in the country, they did
not look like November trees Bare
| yeS-and brown; but the buds were
| swelling on them, and the brown had
the warm, purplish tinge that comes
with the rising sap.
He turned abruptly. and looked
about the room. There was wash
stand, dressing table, chest of draw
ers-all the usual furniture of a com
Portable bedroom.
There were two doors TO the ROOM
He thought he would go down and
prospect a bit The need to know
where he was and what had been hap
pening took possession of him to the
exclusion of everything else. With
a glance at his bare legs. he pulled
the CoVerlet off the bed and wrapped
it about him. Then he turned the
handle of the nearest door, opened
it. and found himself looking through
into another room.
There was red carpet on the floor
and red curtains at the windows. A
bowl Of snoWdrops stood on a bare,
polished table.
The man who had been Anton Blum
nodded. Snowdrops-'I thought those
trees looked like spring. all right"
December - January - February -
it must be at least February; and
that meant that he had been knocked
out for three months. He frowned
again, spread out his hands. and
looked at them. They We're not the
hands of man who had been three
months on the sick list. They We're
not his hands as he remembered
them. They were broad, blackened,
horny; and every nail was broken,
worn TO the quick, and thickened at
the edge; the palms were ridged with
callosites. The muscles of his fore
arms stood out like cords.
lie looked again about the quiet,
empty room. There was a. writing