The Waterbury Democrat., 1934-04-14

He spoke a stiff variety of Span ish and she concluded that he was a northerner who had long been in hiding.
 "God grant that you find your orchids." she murmured, her blood shot eyes fixed upon him.
 She was certain now. The man was hiding from something or some one. And she. would have her reward.
 Above them the trees grew un- usually high for swamp ground, making an impenetrable green black roof. Now and again a leaf stirred gently but usually quiet prevailed.
 "It is a warm day, stranger, and you have hurried.' she. said with a thick pretense of concern.
 "Yes--" he admitted. He took from his pocket then a gray handkerchief that Pablito had once kept white for him. With it he mopped his brow.
 Pablito- sent a messenger, a Cuban youht, to the small island but the messenger could find no trace of Moves. Storms had left sand thick and gritty upon every thing within the shack, the Cuban boy testified, and the place looked as though it had been deserted for months.
 "Nadie ally" he repeated with a lift of the shoulders and out flung hands. "Nadie" ("Nobody there, nobody!") And you went into the swamp ?' Cn ne,Jr aI hse l&n nrI zIa, strained and tense as he leaned forward over the bare-topped table.
 The boy hesitated moment. Then he spoke. He had gone into the swamp. he treasured his con- science. Not far, to be sure, yet he had gone into the swamp. "Seguro que si, Senor!" He an- swered. ("Surely yes!") Then he wiped his brow al- thoughthe day was not over- warm, being freshened by Q cool breeze that had had it's start in a late, northern blizzard. That swamp, the Cuban boy feared, he would never forget. The place had been as black as the inside of the devils caul- dron. Half way toward it's darkest gloom he had come across wick ed old woman who had seemed a witch. She was lying on a path with one leg twisted under her and she had screamed as he had never heard a woman scream. He had backed away from her, He had backed away from her, asking haltingly, "Old woman. can help you? May send friends to you from Key West?" Seeing her, he had decided that, sin or not, he could not touch
 her! And she had. answered, shrieking. "No, no. Not from Key West! have daughter who will come to me. Col"
 An. her troubles! Angela thought through the pain that con- fused her. Help from Key West
 would deliver her into the power
 of the strangers who had inquired about the boy left in her care. | The orchid hunter would help her. she knew. He had the soft
 eyes which deny an enjoyment of
 torture.
 ] "Go, stranger and with God!"
 she repeated between her groans.
 So the Cuban boy had gone after
 one last glance toward the dark
 ness of the shadows and after
 crossing himself.
 Pablito, in the house of Cerro, sank back in his chair, his brow furrowed. He had grown older in l a very short time. He was still sure that some day, some how he would locate Moves and that again they would dwell in that peace he now thought of as close to Utopia. He arsoe to pay the messenger and the boy, reassuring himself of | the fact that he had been in the swamp, went on his way. l Lottie appeared then. "Too bad, | honey" she said, laying hand on Pablito's shoulder. He realized l.that the only sincere kindness he
 knew these days came from Lot tie. He thought, "Some time. in some way. I must repay her" And this seed, sprung from his | sense of fairness. grew into a heavy sense of duty but his grati- tude was to lie dormant longer
 than he could guess.
 Norma Field and Estelle had settled in Tucson, SAriz. Norma knowing that she could not live long. clutched the hours with Estelle jealously. Meanwhile she
 made brave pretense of ceiling better.
 Estelle sat by her mothers bed constantly, watching with tragic young eyes and smiling stiffly. "Darling, you should so out more: you should get more exer- else"
 "But I'd rather be here" sT'-, afraid 1t must be stupid for you, Bear, penned up with me" | 1T want to be here, mother.
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