Smyrna times., 1932-11-23
Reading to While Away Time
Under the Evening Lamp
When Days Work is Done
INTERESTING READING
DOWN HOLD-UP LANE"
BY Allen Coles

He was wishing as he typed
there in the lonely cottage down
Hold-Up lane, that the rain
wouldn't beat SO menacingly on the
sloping roof. So long as his work
was absorbing he didn't mind life
in this wooded seclusion but now
that he was nearing the close of
his book there was something a lit
tie terrifying or at least depressing
about HoldUp lane, as the yillag-
ers called the short road that led
into the woods which according to
reports had once been the haunt
of bandits.
Once or twice Dick stopped typ
ing to listen more intently to the
medley of sounds caused by the
wind and rain, and then in the
middle of the last paragraph he
stopped abruptly. The candles had
both flickered suddenly as if a
door had been opened to let in a
gust Of air and then, before he had
time to think what his youthful
hero would have done under the
circumstances, he felt a withering
pang of terror and looked up into
the dangerous end of a gun.
"Stick 'em up," came the COM
mand-a strong voice but high
enough for woman. With gun
still in the right hand the aggres-
sOr took the lighted candle in the
left and raised it to give Dick San
ders closer scrutiny. Then he saw
that the stalwart figure before him
was that of a f1fty-year-old woman
clad in a bright blue swagger coat
and skirt.
"What are you doing here?" the
woman demanded, and then, This
is my house. I've a good mind to
bind your arms and feet and throw
you out Of doors to enjoy the
weather"
Dick Sanders slowly lowered his
hands.
you see, I've been here two
months now in a shack further
along on Hold-Up lane, and ID
never seen anyone in this cottage.
I've been writing all summer and
lust last week my typewriter col
lapsed entirely. At the post office
they told me that a writer some
times came up to this cottage TO
work. 1t may seem objectionable
but needing the typewriter as des-
perately as | did and not being
able to rent one in the village. !
picked the lock of your back door
one day last week and took the lib
erty to come in and make myself
at home It's not, however, par
ticularly good typewriter.
brought my own candles"
His companion had taken off her
soaking hat and coat. THAT at
least was considerate."
II suppose | ought to be going"
suggested Dick Sanders whose
feeling of terror had been replaced
by one of embarrassment and cha
grin. II hope you won't think too
i'll of me-"
Don't be a fool" she told him.
while I'm getting into dry clothes
you run along out in the kitchen.
Take a candle and see whether you
can get the oil stove lighted. And
then I'll come out and We'll make
some coffee and see what else we
can find to eat"
Dick had started the coffee and
was opening a can of milk when
his hostess returned. and under the
now friendly glow of her smile lost
his feeling of restraint.
| "What do you write?" she de-
manded bluntly.
| my name is Dick Sanders" he
said. II do adventure stories for
boys"
Terrible rot" she said.
Dick flushed with resentment.
"And you?" he said.
aOh. I'm Z. z. A." And Dick
recognized the name Of the author
Of the seasons most talked-about
book Of fiction whose identity had
been a matter of controversy for
months. II also happen to be q
pretty successful business woman.
And when | do my writing | hide
myself up here so that nobody will
know. It didn't occur to me that
ANYBODY else would choose TO live
id Hold-Up lane. | drive up at
night when / feel like writing. This
time my car struck In the mud a
mile down the road"
swell, if you're l.. 7. A. ] don't
% much resent having you call my
stuff rot. You're wonderful" SAID
Dick with enthusiasm.
$50 will you be when you're my
age." she answered, "and / hope
sooner Suppose you give up this
Dot-boiling you have been doing.
I'ye read some of your books.
signs of real promise If you'd give
Yourself a chance. Let's spend the
rest of the autumn collaborating on
the next best seller"
The slender hand of the young
man and the capable hand of the