Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-11-10

and CAM on cam, mold my hand
As he slouched down, his nst lnclosing her
fingers, thoughts awakened and ran and
fastened on things. They fastened, tentatively
at first, upon the farm. Jim gone. Frank
gone. The smithy, the store, and the farm.
The whole of Mill Crossing. The trinity. The
three in one.
Tight, Cam, for PHYS sakel Hold it
Tight"
His eyes. falling to his fist, strayed up along
the arm it held. The sleeve, rumpled near
the shoulder, was trimmed with pretty lace
A box of apples. That memory hidden away
in the cellar of his mind. Hidden away,
clamped down in the dark, till the noXious
vapors, the murderous vapors of its rotting had
filled the shut-up house he was. "A box Of
red apples for the apple growers girl the
girl who sniggered and ran away from him to
laugh at him.
And there, by the unfolding of a devious
destiny. he sat in that girls room. holding that
girls hand. Jim who had got her. Frank who
had wanted her lay side by side out there in the
icehouse under the lightning. While he, the
dumb one"-the last to be thought of with
anything but amusement and the last to be
feared-his big hot fist inclosing her imprecating
hand now, and his eyes on the pretty lace at her
shoulder He jumped up with a gulp and
claUter of iron
What the" He flung her hand away. He
swallowed
Ing his brow, Goodnight. You must excuse
me- Blossie; wasn't meaning mean-I hope
you sleep good shall. Good night"
In his own brain was the one word Hurry"
She lay and listened to his boots going along
the hall and heard the closing of his door. She
ought to have put out the lamp But even
with the shades drawn, the lightning around
the edges of the window unnerved her; in the
dark alone it would have been more than she
could bear.
She lay so till she felt herself nearing ex-
hauStion from the sustained rigidity of her
limbs. Rain came and with the rain, wind.
Around the caves it neighed like wild stations;
down the chimneys it moaned like men.
camden had reached the woods when the
rain came. Lighting the lantern he had
brought he made his way on to the boundary
fence. There, about mile to the east Of the
path the others had taken that day, he pulled
the rails down and tumbled the stones together
in pile. Then he proceeded another hundred
yards, holding the lantern high and peering
through the streaming crystals of the rain.
Blue Murder was there. Neither the chain
nor the sapling had given way. The lantern
and, better than a lantern, globe of lightning
showed the tethered stallion glistening and
quivering, his eyes all whites at the mans
approach.
Gentle. boy; steady, boy!" Talking all the
while in the way he had with horses Camden
-
gradually progressive weight bringing the dark
head nearer. STEADY boy; gentle there.
gentle!"
Was he afraid of horses? Who was it said
he was afraid Of horses?
Steady, you're going to get yours. Cheer
up, cheer up the worst is yet to come. Come
nowl Come eaSyl Come alongl"
When he had Embossed the chain he felt for
and found with his free hand his hammer
hidden behind the tree. Throwing the lantern
into the brush, where it fared for an instant
before dying, he led the stallion back as far
as the break he had made in the fence. Taking
turn with the chain around the animals nose
like an improyised hackamore, he swung from
the stone pile to the slippery back A moments
shying, a sliding caracole of amazement and
distrust, crushing of knees, a lash Of the
chain end, and that was all there was to that
Blue Murder had been ridden before
In the snithy Camden sang as he pumped
his bellows, filling the cave beneath the rafters
with red. The air was nothing the words were
mumbo-ju jumbo, but they swelled his chest His
eyes, cast from time to time at his wheeling
prisoner, had lost their look of helplessness and
surly distraction.
Scared2 He? No, no, no! Now that he
wasn't any longer afraid of time, he wasn't
afraid of anything on earth
Shy, you devili" He wagged his exalted
head. 'Whicker, you hellion! Whicker all you
want toll Tomorrow they're going to get YOU,
the numb foolsI Tomorrow they can have you.
I got you tonight"
He was more than other men; he was enor-
nous. Fishing an iron shoe from that in
separable apron pocket of his, he thrust it into
the Goals and blew and blew. He tried 1t and
1t was burning red He tried it again and it
was soaring white. Taking it out on the anvil,
he began to beat it, swinging his hammer one
handed, gigantic. So In the crimson light
irradiating iron sparks, he was at his greatest.
Pounding, pounding. man in the dark of