The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1941-11-06

Peggy turned to walk up the
road to the main entrance of Rose
wood, but she had gone only few
feet when she heard the honk
honk of an automobile horn be-
hind her. Stepping quickly to the
side of the road she turned her
head to see if it were Harry re-
turning. A roadster which she did
not recognize was slowing down
and stopped beside her. She
thought at first that the car was
occupied solely by flashing teeth
and a small moustache, so con-
scious was she of the engaging
smile that met her upward glance
Then she realized that that was
only part of a very sunburned
face in which bright brown eyes
were regarding her admiringly.
And it all belonged to a man
around twenty-five or six, she
quickly judged. She had sudden
vision of the fun it would be to
go riding along an open road with
a man like that.
Il beg your pardon" he inter-
rupted her ridiculous thoughts.
<'But could you tell me where I
could find the Horton placer"
''The Horton placer" Peggy re-
peated in establishment. Who on
earth was he?
eyes, Horton. Didn't you ever
hear of them? Old family, large
place, and I am sure it is around
here some place. thought maybe
you could tell me just where"
Il can" Peggy was somewhat
nettled at this brief summary of
her family and home by a strang-
er. This is the Horton place in
here"
us it really?" he asked raising
his eyebrows in surprise. "Now
isn't that odd that I should have
driven right to it?" He looked to-
wards the house and gave low
whistle of delight. at surely is a
beauty, isn't it? That's what call
real Colonial. I'd like to just pick
it up, as it is, and take it away
with me. Thank you so much,'' he
added as he settled himself be-
hind the wheel and drove on
Peggy watched him curiously,
thinking of his surprise when she
should follow him into Rosewood.
But instead of turning in at the
gates, he drove on past them. Sud-
denly the car came to an abrupt
halt and began to back. But he
passed the gates, and only stopped
when he had again reached her
side.
Gould I give you a 1ift?" he
asked. ''I'm going as far as the
town-what's its name?"
"Marshville is the name of the
town." Peggy replied with digni-
ty. land I don't care for ride"
I'm sorry he said. 81 hope
you don't think I was being rude
or fresh? You don't look like a
hitchhiker, you know, but just
thought-well, goodby." He drove
on again.
Peggy looked at his rear license
plate. It was a California license.
Some tourist, she decided, who
had heard of Rosewood.
She entered the grounds of her
home through the large iron gates
and walked up the long driveway
bordered on both sides by old elm
trees. In spite of Peggy's desire to
be modern she loved this place
which had been built by her
great-grandfather, with its old
fashioned gardens now tended by
the children and grandchildren of
the Negroes who had belonged to
the original owner of Rosewood.
AS she approached the house she
looked at it with a smile. Harry
was right. It would be a swell
place for a party. The long wide
hall running through the center
with its hardwood floor waxed
to glass-like surface would be a
perfect place to dance. Candle
light cleaning on the old mahog-
any furniture in the double par
lors should create romance for
any girl.
She stopped a moment as she
looked at the house. She had been
born here and had never really
noticed it much before. It had al
ways been just "home," but look
ing at it now it struck her that
it had taken generations to make
Rosewood what it was. The silver
which she used had been brought
from England by her great-grand-
father. Her ancestors whose pic
lures hung in the large high-ceil-