The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1931-04-17

UNDERSTANDINGS, IL pay Liz Win
fire. We can't do it, Marcia"
The girls face was averted. They
had turned from the broad, state
highway into an unpaved cross
road. On either side stretched farm
land with here and there weather
beaten house.
The jewellers in those homes were
not prosperous. Fences sagged
drunkenly and chickens fed with
shrill squawks at the approach Of
the roadster.
Marcia looked at the surround
ings with obvious distaste. n sup
pose you're right" she said after a
pause. "I'll have to go away"
But I don't want you to do that.
There's no need for It'll"
The girl turned then and looked
at him. She smiled but there was
infinite pathos behind that smile.
"Oh, my dearl" she said. "It's the
only way. I'll go away and you can
forget me. That will be best"
"I1l never forget you, Marcia.
You know that"
THEY rode in silence for several
Il minutes. The frown remained
between Jim Wallace's eyes.
Presently the girl said, well, it's
settled. I'm going. 1 don't know
where, but I'm going away. Do just
this one thing for me, jim! Let's
drive to the Lodges.
Were nearly half way there,
anyhow. I want this last afternoon
together to be something to remem-
ber."
Wallace glanced at the sky. The
sun had been hidden from view all
afternoon. In the west the clouds
were darkening.
Guess we can make it," he said.
II don't like the look Of those
clouds though"
The Lodges was the name given
to an ancient landmark five miles
west of Forest City. Jackson creek,
winding its circuitous pathway,
struggled through region of roll
ing hillsides where layers of sand
stone projected, occasionally in
great slabs.
The sandstone never had been
used commercially. In fall the
brownish stone surface blended with
the riotous scarlet and gold of SUI
mach and oak leaves and under
brush of a dozen varieties.
In spring the Lodges were visited
every Sunday by scores of mixers"
family picnic parties and young
men and women carrying cameras
md forever taking snapshots.
There was sentimental interest
attached to the Lodges, too. There
was a fiat rock high on the one hill
side which rose taller than the
others and overlooked an abrupt
drop.
You could family see the white
tower Of Forest City's highest BALD
ing from this height. On this rock
could be traced numerous initials
carved in pairs. Sometimes the let
tiers were surrounded by the crude
outline of a heart.
Here and there beside such an
inscription as sally and Bob" or
Esther and John" there would be
the day of the month and year.
Neatly carved and framed in a
square at the northeast corner of
the rock were the letters IN. L."
and u. W." which Jim had cut
there on high school picnic be-
fore he had had the courage to ask
Marcia for a date"
A private road led from the main
highway across the field, the near
est approach to the Lodges. Jim
swung the car into this lane, driv-
ing carefully. The road ended fifty
yards from the hillside.
Want to get out?" he asked.
Marcia nodded. They walked over
70 the edge of the bluff and sur
Veyed the distance.
Jackson creek at the base Of the
hill was a narrow, wavering stream.
Beyond the countryside was sweep
of green's shading from dark to
light.
Occasionally the bright red or
yellow Of barn or farm house stood
out against this background. The
neat fenced fields of corn seemed to
make pattern of great squares.
Marcia sank to the rock. "Sit
down, JIM" she said.
He dropped beside her, took out
his cigaret case and offered it to the
girl. She declined.
Jim took lighter from his pocket
applied the flame to his own cigaret
and leaned back, smoking intently.
n Il
THE situation hardly was TO-
Il mantle. For an instant Marcia
eyed the young man diSapprovingly
then she said, drawing nearer
Like old times, isn't it? Do you
remember the last time we were
here?"
jim nodded. Haven't been here
since"
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