The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1943-04-01
~ {i'; ] "a OX8UlIf4
" by Mary Inlay Taylor nStNT

W "Y
/ Good heavens; am I as cheap
as that?" Appealing to your SYM
pathy-your Pity" he exclaim-
ed.
"You know I didn't mean that!'
He was enraged at himself.
Had he been playing on this
young girls sympathy? Pity akin
to love! he thought furiously,
and Redeemed to his hair.
1--WE got to 60 West" he said
bluntly, not looking at her; i've
got to take up a new life out
there. wanted to tell you about
my coming to your uncle's house;
it was" he broke off for she
interrupted him softly.
ooh, Mr.. Fosdick!" she said,
looking around at the old man
behind her chair.
Mark was taken aback. He alb
horred himself for it, but Eos
dicks gray face, his cold eyes, in
that place seemed like the ghost
in Hamlet, they reminded him.
The lawyer had risen from a Ia
BILE in the farthest corner. 1t
was evident that he had been
watching them.
81 come here for tea; it's the
only place where I can get the
| kind I libe," Mark heard him
explaining to Pam, as if he knew
his presence in a tearoom was
amazing. AS he spoke he looked
at Mark-looked through him and
did not see him.
| Pam thought they were not
acquainted, and Mark heard her
presenting him as "Mr. Byram."
Fosdick stared hard at him,
seeing him now. "Byram?" he
repeated dryly-bitingly.
Mark, standing, with his hand
on the back of his chair, wanted
to strike him for it. He knew
that he had never before in his
life been nearer murder than at
that moment! Something hard
ened in him; he had been on the
point of confession, of making
clean breast of it to Pam, but
FoSdick was like a challenge. He
stared back at him with fury in
his look. There was a breathless
kind Of silence and Fosdick's slow
contemptuous smile, hard as a
blow. The young mans breath
came, suddenly choking, his
hands clenched at his sides, he
was hardly aware of the girl, nor
that PANS eyes turned question
inglv from one to the other
I'm an old friend of Horace
Byram of Utica" Mr.. Fosdick's
dry voice had hint of mockery
in it. Il don't seem to remember
you, sir, as-a Byram!"
Marks white face defied him.
'You know I'm not Byram,
Mr.. Fosdick," he said in a low
voice, hardly controlled; it shook
little with the passion that was
choking him.
Old Fosdick cackled; the sound
was as unmirthful as the startling
screech of frightened hen. But
he adventured no farther; he saw
the look in Marks eqes; he turn
ed his thin old shoulders toward
him and smiled crinkingly at
Pam.
"How's your aunt, my dear?"
he asked dryly, suggestively, his
attitude excluding Mark from
the conversation seemed to
say: you're in bad company, my
child; 60 home!"
Pam was flushed; her lip
trembled a little but she forced
smile. I'm going to meet her
noW-I was on my way when"
she did not speak the name, by
ram," again, it seemed unlucky-
1--WE got to 60 now!" She turned
to Mark. Couldn't someone call
me a taxi?" she asked hurried
ly; I'm conscience-stricken when
I think of Aunt Lynn waiting!"
"I'll get a taxi for you my
SELF" Mark said promptly; he
was minded to leave her alone
with his enemy; let Fosdick do
his worst!
He left them standing by the
table, the girl trying to make talk,
plainly agitated; the old mans
thin, black-clad back still square
ly on the retreating offender.
Hang him!" Mark thought
violently; "it's like giving up
but he can have his chance.
She's got to know; I've been a
sneak!" His sheer rage at Fos-
dick did not blind him to his own
iniquity.
Traffic was congested outside,
4 L L