Evening star., 1932-03-09
Spite Wife As. % r:,..,.; ~

and Eunice would be cautious-even
down here in this deserted spot.
Stumbling down the last slopc-her
breath coming in painful dry sobs now,
scorching her lungs like fire. Her legs.
shaking so With exhaustion and excite
ment that they would hardly support
her when she vrenchcd open the gate
and stumbled on the porch.
Tire tracks on the driyeway-fresh
tire tracks. The sight flooded her anew
with the need Of haste She shook the
knob-the door was locked. She beat
on the weathered panels with her
clenched fists
Stan! Stan!" she screamed. Open
the door, rs judy" Then. with a
CLEAN of reason. Stan. I've come to
warn you Stan. there's danger for
you. Oh-please believe mel I'm not
trying to trap you! wilson's comingl
He'll shoot you. Stan. swear I'm tell
ing you the truth Let me in,'
The clamor of her own voice fell
back on her ears. No answer. The
pounding of the breakers on the cove
below the house. The angry hum of
humble bee in a clump Of marigolds.
growing wild against the front steps.
Judy could imagine how the pound
ing of her fists on the door had awak-
ened hollow echoes to ring through the
hall-through the high-ceiled rooms.
Those guilty two-standing aghaSt up
there-trying to make her think the
moments while death raced down upon
| them
Furious panic descending upon her.
She pounded on the door. screaming
like a wild thing. Raining blows on
rft1
pouring down her cheeks running into
her distorted mouth.
'Stan-please -. please so help
me God, I'm not trying to trap you'll
I want to save you! He's coming
Wilson'S coming to kill you both.
Please believe me for Gods sake. be-
lieve me! Eunice-I swear it! swear
it's true!"
Boom of surf. gentle little breeze
| shaking the flowers. Bringing the
smell of roSe-geranium and stocks. The
bee gave last angry hum and few
zigzagging away from the clump of
marigoldS. The old house drowsed in
its tangle Of Sun-drenched garden.
With shaking fingers Judy pulled off
, a shoe and with its muddy heel she
broke the lower pane of one of the long
parlor windows looking out on the
porch
Glass crashing-falling in as she
struck time and again, knocking the
frame free until she could reach in
and send the long green shade rafting
up to the top of the window. She
scrambled over the sill, shielding her
head with her arms to guard against
the jagged pieces of glass which clung
to the side.
The long dark front parlor, filled with
its massive faded furniture. She ran
through it, lodging the heavy chairs.
into the hall-up the stairs, her own
footsteps waking an army of echoes In
the high old rooms.
up the stairs into the darkened
empty, even though she ran swiftly
into each one, ripping open closet doors
which one might hide.
"Stan-Eunice- her own voice.
echoing through the rooms and halls.
Her heart leaped and she screamed
with terror In the depths of a dark
ened room wild and dishevelled figure
looked back at her. A distorted white
| faced thing leaped at her. 1t was a
moment before Judy realized that this
was her own reflection IN the depths Of
a long pierglasS.
Hair on end, face plastered with mud
and slimed with tears. Eyes wild. Her
dress torn and muddy. Her arm bleed
| ing from a cut she did not remember
getting as she scrambled through the
window downstairs.
Heart pounding smothered with fear.
she ran through the deserted house.
Forcing herself to a systematic search.
All the rooms on the top floor. All the
long shadowy parlors downstairs. The
dark, red walled kitchen the black
coal cellar.
!
ghostly place was the kindly old shore
/ house where she and Madame had
| spent a placid Christmas. The peaceful
old place where Nick had discovered
he loved her.
1t was full of danger now the
abode of terror.
No one here. The fact was born in
on her on weak wave of relief and
disappointment No one here. Had
Georgia been deliberately lying? No.
There had been real panic in Georgia's
confession. Some one had been here
she saw it almost Immediately after. A
clear place on the stair rail- where a
hand had rubbed the dust off recently.
Other signs. A footstep on the wooden
landing OF the upper hall. And now
that she was retracing her footsteps
searching with less blind terror-Stan's
silver pocket flask, forgotten on a
dresser in one of the upstairs bed
rooms.
Stan had been here with Eunice. But
they had left-those fresh tire tracks
had been made by STAINS car. They
had left before Wilson could reach
them. Blind luck-playing in their
favor.
That anguishing drive-that des-
perate trip through the tunnel had been
needless. If Wilson got here he would
find only STAINS wife. He would think
she was here on some shady love affair
of her own.
Judy flung herself across the old
fashioned quilt on the bed and buried
her face in the pillow.
Tomorrow-The Mill Of the Gods.