Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1940-07-19
CHAPTER 10

you at this hour, but it's important.
Nay I come in?"
March asked, her heart pounding,
"Who are you? What do you want 2"
IT want to talk to you," he evaded
her first question neatly. you're a
good friend of Griffith Morgan's,
aren't your"
"I-know him. Yes"
"Did you know he was killed last
night in Wisconsin,"
March's knees were shaking sudden
~. She chung to the door-knob for
support. KILLED."
"Ice-boating," her informant con-
tinued succinctly. "He had a crowd
up for the holidays, but he'd gone out
alone and his boat went through a
hole where someone had been cutting
ice. Queer part is, there seems to be
some question in the mind of at least
one of his guests as to whether he
knew the hole was there. You see,
it might have been suicide"
"Oh, no! :"
Better let me in, Mrs. Randolph"
The voice beyond the door was in
gratiating. eve know you left your
husband last summer on account of
young Morgan. We know he visited
you here few days back :. Better
let me in"
March wet her lips. Her mind was
a crowding turmoil of grief and hor-
ror. Griff dead But Griff
couldn't be dead! Death was sad and
final. And Griff had everything to
live for. -.
The reporter outside said, "Lool
Mrs. Randolph. You give me an in.
terview and I won't put in thing
you don't want me to-"
March pressed her fingers hard a.
gainst her temples, trying to think
Trying to see some way out. Thu
instinct for self-preservation is strong
It couldn't help Griff for her to b.
dragged into all this -.
She said, playing for time, "I'm no
dressed. If you don't mind waitin,
a few minutes"
"Sure, I'll wait. Only don't tax
too long. Therell be other reporter
here soon and I can't be responsible
for what they'll print"
With speed born of sheer despera
ton, March got into her clothes. Sh
pulled a hat with a concealing brin
over hastily combed hair, shrugged o.
her coat. Silently, her heart racing
she let herself out through the bacl
door, sped down the stairs.
The street was dark, practically de
serted at this hour. A milkman'
horse chopped past, drawing it's rat
Ting load. The driver paid no atten
ton to March, walking so briskly to
ward the corner. He couldn't know
that her hands were clenched hard il
her pockets, that it was only by a su
preme effort of will that she KEEP
herself from running.
That reporter. He wouldn't wal
very long. But there would be others
She couldn't go back home. There wa.
only one place she could go. :.
She bought a paper at the corner
newsstand. And folded it inward
hastily on those shrieking headlines.
MILLIONAIRE BROWNS. Ane
beneath, in slightly smaller print, Il
Ice-boat Death of Griffith Morgan Ac
cident or Suicide?
March walked three blocks before
she saw taxi. The cab skidded tt
halt in response to her urgent hail
She got in and collapsed, rather thar
sat, on the shabby seat.
"Where to lady?"
In voice that shook, but which haC
in it no slightest hesitation or uncer.
tainty, March gave the man Clay
Saunders address. And sat there
her eyes closed and tears starring
her lashes, as they sped along. In hel
ears was the echo of Griff's voice
Griff's voice that she would never
hear again, except accusingly like this
in memory, saying, "There isn't any.
thing to look forward to without you
I can't be happy without you" Ask
ing "How can feel like this without
arousing the slightest response ir
you? It's such waste. :"
He had been pleading for his life
that night. Belatedly and with a ter
rifying sense of guilt, March realized
it. Pat had warned her. What must
Pat be thinking of her now? Pat hac
said, "There is kind of recklessness
about Griff that's always frightened
me. can't be sure what he'd do il
he's driven too far, or hurt too deep
w."