The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1942-06-04

the kind of Individual to lnnaplt
this kind of a place.
Any view of the shack's inter
ior was impossible. 1t was dark
there, and the figure at the en-
trance blocked it, anyhow.
"My names Gidden."
"New to me. What d'you
want?"
Jerry's decision had favored
frankness. Instinctively convinc-
ed of something queer about the
Slim Twombley case, he want
ed to find out first all he could
concerning the dead man, then
pursue a similar process regard
ing the beneficiary. If there was
aught wrong in the original in
surance application, so much the
better for Jerry and his job; if
there was aught wrong with the
death and the beneficiary's part
therein, again so much the better
for Jerry-and the worse for
Twombley. Therefore, direct
questions.
And yet, Jerry lacked authority.
Moreover, this creature before
him evinced strong suspicious. To
hint at legal complications to such
a nature would, he suddenly rea-
lized, invite failure. He welcom-
ed what appeared to be an in
spired lie.
you're from Doncaster, aren't
you, Miss Slinn?"
"That's my business"
"Sure it isa but I'd like to
know"
Those green eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
I'm collecting material" il
was mastery deception! - ''for
history of the pioneer families
of Doncaster County, and this
name of Slim is on the list Of
grants made by William Penn
u. Now, I'd like"
"Those Sims aren't ours"
"But they must b." persisted
Jerry glibly. 1.-THE names not a
common one; you're living in the
county
mot the same family"
miss Slim"
"And anyhow, I haven't any
interest in family trees"
Her short neck and thrown her
square head forward. He had a
most uncomfortable feeling that,
paying small attention to what he
said, she was looking deep into
his mind. when people are dead,
it's best to let them lie"
He somehow brought her back
to the surface Of things. She
looked at him darkly; her voice
was hollow. 1t was as if there
came a chill into the summer air,
but he mustn't be affected by such
stuff. "These Sims who settled
at DOnCaSLer-
Il tell you, they're not my peo-
pie"
She began to shut the door. 1t
encountered, none too politely,
his intruding shoe. The lie didn't
appear to be so inspired, after
ALL Could he startle anything
out of her? The pressure in
creased; he must try.
well, aren't you," he asked,
"some connection of the Joseph
Slim who recently was drowed
in the Hudson river between Al
bany and Linlithgo? Ouch!"
One Of her grogans had crashed
against the shin above his tres
passing foot-and the brogans
were hobnailed. He drew back
the leg involuntarily. He stoop-
ed to nurse it.
"You get out of here!"
Bang! the door was shut in his
face. With amazing ease, its
rusty bolt jumped home.
! Jerry grinned. GAS a liar" he
said, Il don't seem to rate quite
one out of possible ten"
/ He looked at the door; the door
stared blindly past him and a.
cross that stretch of dreary waste
land. He listened; there came no
sound from within the shack.
II guess" he reflected, "that
there are hundreds of thousands
of words in those books Iightner
loves and I was fool enough to
read. But there's not one piece
of advice in the whole six-foot
shelf of 'em to tell you what to
do when lady kicks your shins
and bolts the door on you"
Knock again? To what pur-
pose? Invent another lie? It was
sure not to be believed. Howev-
er, he did not yet turn back the
way that he had come. Instead,
Ne made a circuit of the shack.
A wretched kitchen garden,
fhic which f1onlxod tho p1oco