Glacier County chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1931-1940, 1940-09-20
CHAPTER VH-Continued

On and on and on; the men spoke
only occasionally in low tones; the
car never stopped. Every bone in
Sheila's body was Jared and aching.
Her head was dizzy, her thoughts
wandered vaguely. Sometimes she
fell into a moments doze, only to
be jerked awake again as the truck
went over some rut or turned some
corner.
"Oh, my God, my head!" Peter
presently whispered.
A silence. Then he breathed
again, in a more alert tone:
where are WEI"
81 don't know. They're taking us
somewhere in a truck"
"Bootleggers," Peter whispered.
"Sh-h!"
''What'd I do, drink something
that was fixed?"
81 don't know. But your breath
smelled like chloroform or some
thing"
A long silence.
'This is states prison for the
whole lot of 'em," Peter said vi
ciously.
eff we ever get out!"
well get out all right" he said.
He appeared to doze again, and
breathed heavily. 'It's states pris-
on, that's what it is" he said, rous-
ing, and speaking in an angry, dron-
ing voice.
"For heavens sake, don't talk so
loud!"
She became a little light-hearted
in her turn. 1t was agony to rouse
herself from the stupor that was
half-consciousness to the full reali-
cation of pain and danger again.
"I'n never get over this; it's muir
der" Peter said.
Sheila, heavy against his Shout
der, made no answer.
Gosh, it'll be good to get rested
somewhere"
It'll be awful to start in" she
muttered.
When they finally did stop she
could not be completely awakened.
She was half-dragged, half-guided
along a snowy pathy, up steps across
a powdered, low, unrailed, country
porch, and into a house not many
degrees warmer than the outer
world. Sheila saw a clock that said
half past four looming at her, re-
ceding, suddenly growing enormous
again. Her eyelids hurt, she turned
her eyes away from a smoking
lamp. Someone was helping her off
with her wet, snowy coat; she cried
out in sudden pain as her arms were
moved. Her hat was off; the heavi-
ness in her head was so bad that
she stumbled blindly about, putting
up her hand, trying to rub the wet
tangle Of her hair away.
There was a bleak-looking, fiat
iron bed, its mattress showing shah
by and discolored under a heap of
sodden comforters. But it was stand
ing still, at least, with floor under
it, and walls steady about it, and the
room was not utterly cold Sheila
kicked off her shoes, sank down,
drew coverings about her. Some
body took away the lamp.
Waking was misery. Sheila had
never before in her life wakened to
such bewilderment and such physi-
cal discomfort at once. Where was
she? What walls were these, and
why was she asleep in her office
dress?
She turned over, and her dank,
sour, ripping bed covers gave forth
lsickly, rancid smell. She sat up
and brought her feet to the floor and
looked about her.
1t was daytime, anyway. For al
though the old-fashioned wooden
shutters were closed, outside the
rooms four many-paned windows,
there was Light beyond Rotting
strips of old net hung at these win
dows; the floor was of old, poorly
matched pine boards, upon which
some filthy odds and ends of carpet
were flung at untidy angles. There
were some broken chairs in the
room, collapsing chest Of drawers,
lacking q foot and propped on
stout little cardboard box. Other
furniture consisted only Of her bed
and two other similarly shabby iron
beds, with thin mattresses and foul
bedding. The walls were discolored
and dark; the old wooden doors
lsagged in their frames and carried
white china knobs. Sheila had new
e. been IN q decaying old farmhouse
before, but she knew that she was
IN one now.
On one Of the other beds Peter
~. -