The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-08-20
BY MARY FAITH GEARY


 Pauline could see that Harriet was growing weaker. In the dim light that came from the candle. set upright in the middle of the tram pied dirt floor, Frank sat, notion less except for the slow, monoton- ous movement of his right hand stroking Harriet's curls thet flowed in a golden cataract over his lap. She was stretched full length on the floor of the cellar, her head tenderly held in Franks arms.
 Forty-eight. hours ago they had fled here before the approach of a tornado. Huddled together, awed by the roar of wind above, they had heard rending, splintering crash as the shed that protected the cellar door collapsed. Then, when the multitudinous bowling of the wind had died to a shrill whisper, they had all three exerted their strength to budge the door, which was set in the ground above their heads, at the crest of the mound of earth that formed the ceiling of the cellar. It would not move. For forty-eight hours Pauline had watched with a sullen show of concern while Harriet grew steadily weaker. Seeing Franks hand cease- lessly stroking her hair. Pauline's teeth barred in a sheer. Each stroke of that hand semeed to twist the knife that Frank had buried in her heart days before, when he had 1 come to her with the news of his engagement to Harriet.
 arrived in this little town to rest from a wasting illness Pauline had watched the progress of the court ship. Franks first glance at Harriet should have warned her, but Paul line had ignored the warning. That she could lose Franks love had seemed ridiculous at, first; that she had lost 1t was almost incompre- hensible. But here, in the reeking glow of the homemade tallow can- dle, she, Pauline, would win again. Harriet was failing; 1t was merely matter of time.
 "She needs food" Frank mur- mured hoarsely. "She isn't strong enough to starve for so long," Pauline leaned back against the dirt wall, eyes fixed steadily on Franks face. There is no food" she whispered. It was an effort to keep the tilt of victory out of her voice. Of course there was food, but Pauline alone knew where 1t was.
 This cellar har been used by her mother to store canned fruits and vegetables. One of Pauline's first actions after the collapse of the | shed had been to investigate-while Frank was engrossed in tending Harriet. And she had found 1t, q i familiar cardboard carton of fruit ! jars.
 A nasty glance had disclosed that two of the jars were full; through their dusty glass sides gleamed in- I viting yellow kernels of canned corn.
 About to shout the news of her , discovery, something had silenced Pauline. A plan had sprung full blown into her mind. Frank was strong; so was she. But Harriet was weak. Obviously she could not endure for long the torture oi starvation.
 And now Frank was still un. harmed by his fast; Harriet was de. lirious from pain and hunger. Int hunger had seized Pauline finally and she had waited till Frank dozed then quickly scooped out a hand. full of the precious kernels. One eye on Frank, she had screwed the car back on the jar and wolfed down the handful of corn. It hadn't tasted good; vaguely she wondered at the sour taste. But 1t was food. There was sudden sound from above. Pauline looked at Frank.