The daily monitor leader. [volume] (Mount Clemens, Mich.) 1942-19??, 1942-12-12

but at 4 o'clock in the after
noon he was free until night
guard.
He would go up to the saeter
II would be 5 o'clock when he
came across the pasture. Almost
the same time as last. A warm
feeling came over him at the
thought. Perhaps she would be
standing at the door, or he
would 60 to the back and find
her working in the garden. She
would be angry with him from
the other day.
At o'clock the following
afternoon he started up the hill.
First, under the trees, he climb
ed slowly on a matted pathway
of dead leaves, trying to plan
what he would say. When the
first rise was behind him he
went faster and faster, cutting
across the valley with the
stream at its center, and then up
the other side along the forest
rim.
II was dim under the trees.
Karl had not covered hundred
yards before he saw her COM
ing down the ridge opposite,
leading a young calf on rope.
Her yellow skirts swirled be-
tween the trees and then van
shed again. He heard the calf
lowing, and then the crunch OF
her boots on the pebbles, and
found it very d IF Gu Il to
breathe.
When she turned a bend she
saw him, and stopped, with her
arms straight at her sides, but
the calf kept walking and pull
ed her slowly along
After a moment he forced
himself to say, "Gruss Colt,
Karen
"Gruss Gott," she answered
slowly.
Then he looked over at her
Her round, yellow head was
turned upward. The speckled
sunlight fitted over her dark
blouse and bodice, and over her
firm and rounded arms. He saw
her black boots, tight about her
firm calves, halfway to the
knee.
II got them muddy in the
farm yard the boots" she
said. They're getting awfully
old, though" And then she look
ed straight up at his face. He
took one step and flung his long
arms awkWardly around her,
held her close, both of them 81
lent and breathless. She put her
head on his shoulder and said,
II thought you would never
come"
Up in his chamber Ruck paced
back and forth, caught by these
brooding fears that always pos
sessed him in the last hours of
an assignment. Four nights ago
the British had landed him down
the coast in a fast launch. In
Namsos he had showed his forg-
ed credentials and commander
ed staff car and driver, saying
he had come up by train from
Copenhagen. But now the only
way out was to 60 north, so at
noon he was taking the passen-
ger boat for Narvik. There he
would 60 to his rooms, get a
passport and fresh clothing, and
some time the following night,
catch the little local train down
over the Swedish border.
He burned his notes carefully
in the CRATE and broke up the
ashes. Most of the night before
had been spent memorizing
coastal geography. gun
emplacements, materiel, anti
aircraft positions. Like thou
sands of other men scattered in
all the cities and towns of Eu-
rope, he went over in his mind
all the instructions he had re-
ceived. Nothing forgotten, No
slips made.
He was standing at the win
dow when knock came at the
door. He went over quickly and
opened. His heart sank. In the
binding light that fl o d d
through the broad, open win
dows, he saw her, a slender
dark-haired girl.
Seeing her brought back those
old days when they had called
him the crazy Englishman, that
Sunday morning in Warsaw in
the last summer before the war.
He had gone out for a gallop
under the trees in the Lazienki
Gardens, and met the German
military attache cantering with
Polish girl beside him.
Good morning." he had call
ed in English. Beautiful, isn't
ito"
Good morning." the officer
had smiled, and pulled up to
shake hands.
"Wer list err" the girl asked,
looking interestedly at Ruck.