The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1934-12-14

Don't be foolish" she scolded her.
self. Everyone you know is too busy
with his own affairs to be stalking
you"
She proceeded cautiously. The clamp
of ski snapped open, the leather bind
ing slipped from her heel.
"Darn!" she muttered, and readjust-
ed the ski. Upright, she rested on her
poles until she could collect her breath.
A little afraid? What was there to
fear now that the convict was behind
bars? Didn't every minute count?
She looked over her shoulder. She
had shaken off that skulking shadow.
OF course, it had been but a creature
of her always superactive imagination.
Just the same, she was glad to have
left it behind.
She stopped on a little shelf Of level
land on the hillside. Was that shadowy
blotch the blacksmith shop?
Her heart caught and raced on.
Was she becoming infected with
fright? She wouldn't turn back now.
Time was flying. Galloway and Wal
ter Gerard might reach the smithy
first. Then where would she be? She
couldn't see herself listening at cracks
and windows. She must get inside be-
fore they came.
She frowned at the slope which,
until it neared the road, was almost
clear Of trees. White. Hard. Dry.
A jump would save time. Dare she
try it? She had been good once. Why
not? 1t was a short jump. Suppose
she Topped? What was one flop in
the days work?
She dropped her poles, skilled back
on the level, rounded up all the in
structions she could remember.
She turned. Raced forward. She
was in the air She landed. Was
she going over? No. She clasped
her hands behind her. Not too bad
when she had been so long without
practice. Steady on her skis again.
They barely etched the hard surface.
She was going like a thousand race
horses merged in one.
The smithy! Not SO far away as
she had thought Straight ahead. She
would crash into it. She must stop!
How did one stop? She had forgot
ten. She would drop.
Stars rained in golden shower The
world rocked. She opened her eyes.
That crash ought to have broken every
bone in her body, she reflected, as she
rolled over on her side. She pulled
herself to one knee, floundered up
right on her skis.
The blacksmith shop was barely two
feet away. Its one window stared at
her like lidless eye. No light! That
meant that she was the first arrival
at the conference"
In pool Of purple shadow at the
foot of giant spruce, she removed
her skis cautiously and rested them
against the tree. No sound but the
whispers among the dark green boughs
and the chime Of fairy ice BELLS No
shadow could stalk her down that
slide. She had better get under cover.
She tiptoed to the shop.
Soundlessly she pressed her fingers
against the door. Noiselessly it swung
in. Too easy. She peered into the
dim interior. Swallowed the lump in
her throat.
Anyone h-here?" she inquired
softly.
Quiet as a tomb and cold as death.
CHEEKY comparison! She stepped over
the threshold and closed the door,
crossed the floor, which broadcast q
creak with every cautious step, and
appraised the narrow space between
forge and wall. Should she slip In
there? No. Too near the conspira-
tors! Did that opening at the left
lead into shed?
The glow Of her flashlight illumined
the corners of a lean-to. That high
pile of firewood would serve as a
screen IL either of the conspirators
felt moved to investigate. She pulled
off her mittens, glanced at the IL
Illuminated dial of her wrist watch.
Five minutes before eight.
She leaned against the door frame.
Why didn't the men come? How long
should she wait? 1t would take longer
to go back than 1t had to come. If
she weren't at home by nine-thirty,
when the movies were out, David
would be wild with anxiety.
Crunch! Crunch!
Someone coming! This time her
heart refused to be swallowed; it
parked in her throat and thumped
deafeningly. Galloway or Walter Ger
ard? AS companion in lonely
shack there wasn't much choice M
tween them. OF course, the fiery Len
was lust man."
A light 1t flickered. She crouched
behind the wood pile. A door closing?
The sound as of a lantern set down.
The lean-to doorway framed soft
glow. The door again!
II beat you to it, Galloway"
That was Walter Gerards silky. as
sured voice.
"Come across with the money. Len"