Glacier County chief., 1940-09-27
CHAPTER v1n-Continued

uullt-4 guess IL WIGS lludy ulSlts
1t seems years ago."
"And you and him made date,
hay?" asked Ken.
''Wen, he wanted to see me. To
explain"
Explain why he threw you
DOWN."
A silence.
He didn't throw me down." Sheila
said mildly, ending it. He wanted
me to know that he hadn't run out on
me. He'd lost the number of my
house."
"You know he's yeller, don't
your" Ken said, in dissatisfaction.
Sheila made no answer, and he
mumbled once or twice, "Sure, he's
yeller," before settling down into
silence again.
After another interval the man be-
gan again, with his air of superb
ority:
"You know there isn't anyone who
has anything on mel"
"Has?" Sheila echoed alertly.
Hasn't"
"You mean the police?"
'"There isn't one of them could pin
anything on me-"
Sheila pondered this.
"You mean because there isn't
anything to pin, or just because
you're lucly?" she asked simply.
81 mean that they haven't got
anything on me. I never pulled
gun on anyone" he said. 81 carry
one; that's all right. But don't
raf s,fN la htv,ly
things out for the boys, and then
Rem and talk 'em over"
You're the brains of the organiza-
tion," Sheila observed mildly, re-
calling another favorite phrase of
young Sig, the vice presidents son.
II don't know what you call it."
he said, offended.
81 should think" Sheila unused
aloud, ''of course don't know. But
I should think that the person who
did the planning would be the very
one the police would want to get!"
'And what could they do to him
when they did get him?" Ken asked.
"Oh, leave it to them, they'd man.
age that!" Sheila assured him with
laugh.
oioid ny d1tCl Wdlu, "lltii lile IIl6l
returned, and the kitchen became
suddenly filed with the odor of their
drying boots, their pipes, their I'M
washed bodies and unwashed cloth
ing, Sheila felt suddenly unbearably
tired and stiff and sleepy. 1t was
Ken who briefly suggested that she
take possession of a very small
room off the kitchen; perhaps once
a servants room, or an old grand
fathers room but furnished with
only desolate-looking iron bed like
those in the larger room.
She closed her door, but she could
hear the voices in the kitchen, hear
the shutting of the mems feet, the
creaking of the old rocker. Gradu-.
ally all these sounds blended and
faded, doomed loud again, and were
gone. She slept until winter SUM-
shine, striking through the dirty, un-
curtained farmhouse window, sent
brilliant glitter from the snow
about the discolored walls of the lit
tie kitchen chamber.
Yesterdays experience of thaw-
ing and limping, yesterdays brief,
unrefreshing toilet preceded
fA1tCuCu plSdh1dSt, Dul even lllcl lflG
bright promise of the day made
Sheila's heart lighter, and when Ken
said lazily, over his coffee, well,
you folks ought to be home about
eight o'clock tonight" she felt that
she could have danced for joy.
'We got to dig out of here, first"
he observed. And after the meal,
when Sheila would have fallen upon
her obvious task of clearing the
kitchen, he said, 'Let all that 60,
Sister, and get out here for while.
It'll do you good!"
The truck that had brought them
to the lonely old farmhouse in the
hills was bedded deep in snow; the
men were digging busily about it.
Sheila and Ken began to clear some
sort Of track for it about the corner
Of the barn that had hidden it, down
past the house and so to the road.
Handling her shovel, fiinging the
snow about, breathless and laugh
ing, the girl worked enthusiastically
II with small results. She and Pc
ter and Ken shouted at each other
in the invigorating sunshine as they
dug.
"You own this placer" Peter
asked.
II never seen it before yester-
day." Ken answered.
"Then who does own it?"
II don't know" the man said.
Zone Of the boys found it a while
back. They use it, of and on. Monk
went into the real estate office-in
Worcester, I think it was-and asked
about it, once. They said the owner
was an old lady, and lived in Flor
ida, and sometimes her nieces used
it summers. They're artists, or
teachers or something, from Bos-
ton"