Evening star., 1941-06-29

out in the street He was halfway down the
block before the gateman, too, opened fire.
What a fool he had been to run! Now he
had to go through with it - make a getaway,
race and leap and dodge like hunted fox!
A group of young workmen with lunch
pals came swinging down the lighted street
toward him. AS he reached them. they heard
the shots and tried to stop him, but they were
clumsy because their minds were peaceful
and unprepared. AS he swung out to avoid
them. they dropped their lunch pals and
joined the guards in pursuit.
A siren sounded distantly, became louder
and nearer. 1t was radio police car 1t swung
into the street two blocks ahead, charging
straight down on him.
There was a row of small private houses
across the street Max dashed across, vaulted
picket fence and ran down the length of the
narrow lot, across lawn, down driveway,
and fetched up against brick wall, shoulder
high.
He clambered over it. losing another pack
age But he still had his violin!
0EHIND the houses were square fields, dim
and deserted, the corners marked with the
names of weed-grown streets. There was
moonlight enough to see a shadowy line of
woods at the far limit of the subdivision.
Max headed for the woods, his heart pound
ing. They were close behind him. those men
with the flashing guns! Once he felt the very
breeze of bullet past his ear.
He flew over the vacant lots, caught him
self as he was about to plunge into barbed
wire fence, stopped, and slipped between the
strands, tearing his coat. At last he was in
the deeper shadow of the woods
He hoped it was big forest, deep and wide.
Then he could come out in few days, hun
cry, of course, but really none the worse for
this affair, this stupidity of running away
when he had done nothing wrong.
At first the ground was level and he made
his way swiftly bucking low branches vault
ing fallen logs. Then the floor of the forest
began to slope upward, and he had to slacken
his pace. He could still hear shouts and voices
behind him, but they were dim and confused
They had lost the track.
Why had he been such fool? If he had
only stopped to explain But then, his broken
English! Would they have understood? He
must have trespassed on some war industry
You couldn't do that anywhere.
He struggled on up the slope The trees
grew lower and denser. Sometimes he had to
go down on his knees and crawl. And the night
was getting chilly. If he could only be lucky
enough to come out on the other side of the
woods and find haystack! But the woods
kept on No fields. No haystacks If he only
hadn't dropped his maps!
From the summit of an oak knoll he looked
back and saw the lights of the town. and
above them the fireworks. Independence Day,
he thought Never before, surely, had that
cry of freedom echoed to the whole world,
meant so much to so many. ..
AS the scuffling whisper of his shoes in the
dead leaves stopped, his ears caught another
sound, very distant, but distinct. 1t chilled
his heart. Hounds on the scent!
He plunged through the scrub oaks to the
north, down the slope of the hill, hoping for
water where he could wade and throw the
dogs off. There was stream at the bottom
of the hill He waded in it. tloundering along
over the rocks slipping into holes. He became
drenched at last, but managed somehow to
keep his violin dry.