The Daily Alaska empire., 1934-04-25
Chapter 3S NORMAN AGAIN

| CINCLAIR, proprietor of the Elite O Eating House, had been a tor sergeant in the Marine Corps during the war. Judith went directly to him, told him what she would need and appointed him Major" of the com. missaly department. He was to or ganize the other restaurant men, l one to swing lumber into long tables, another to see about coffee, a third to organize the women into small groups.
 Judith joined one of these groups. She cut bread, spread it, slipped slices of ham, of bologna, of cheese, of pressed meat, of chicken, of roast. between the bread.
 Excited voices were constantly plying her with questions and she was constantly answering. There were times when her weary muscles rebelled and she wished she were thin slice of something to be slipped between sheets. She began to look upon her bed as a sandwich, herself as filling. laughed at herself for thinking it., and then found Delphy at her side with cup of coffee.
 MT. Larson, he say he's back with one truck load and you're to come along over lext trip" Judith agreed wearily. She left the big tent with it's makeshift tables. piles of sandwiches and washboil- CTS of coffee, it's laughing women. it's returning truck loads of excited men talking "Oil-oil." She climbed into the high seat of gravel truck, sat between the driver and Larson. Sandwich" she thought sleepily.
 The shout of men in the truck awakened her after long lapse of semi-slumber. This time her eyes saw twinkling lights, saw the skel eton derrick, looming ahead, saw men running like pygmies about a roped off enclosure.
 There she isl"
 Larson helped her down, steadied her moment, then they walked over to the lighted area. Judith stepped in something that squashed under her feet. Oil the place was drenched with it.
 "She came in so fast we couldn't cap her." one man was saying ex- citedly.
 Judith looked at him and then at the man to whom he was speaking, an oil-field worker, evidently. from his stained clothes. She started, leaned forward, peering intently, then closed her eyes and clutched at Larson's sleeve. The man was her husband, Norman Dale.
 Judith Dale opened her eyes slow ly. Larson, intent upon the scene before him, had not noticed. She looked past him to the man who had been talking to Norman Dale. He was still there but Norman had vanished.
 Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps she lad longed so to see him that she fancied some person similar 10 him was he. This man had looked at her and his eyes had seemed to widen in surprise. Of course she hadn't seen him clearly, his hat brim was tipped forward, his face covered with several days growth of beard. Norman shaved every day. "T>HAT man, the one you were
 talking to when I came up, where did he go?" She had leaned across Larson addressing the man on the other side.
 He just saw a fellow he wanted to catch before he got away"
 He reminded me so much of a friend of mine, would you mind tell ing me his name?"
 Let's see, now what do they call him. Of course his nicknalle's Professor, because he talks so booky, and l think his other name is Jackson"
 Has he been in camp long?"
 Mot so very long, bout a month or so. fine fellow" The man turned away.
 Judith didn't sleep on the return trip. erhaps Norman was there within a few miles os her, had been there right along and hadn't come near.
 So he'd left Lampere, she thought in derision. Perhaps he'd left Lam pere's office. Could he have been the man who had talked to Scog gins, his oil man? But no. Scoggins would have remembered him as be ing Ter husband. Professor Jackson Was he spying ther for Lampere?
 No use thinking about it, hel