The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1944-10-06

Though he knew she felt better
after he said this, a restraint re-
manned between them. They found
they could not at once, and easily,
take up where they left off. The
months in between, during which
each had had another life, interfered
and came between them. They had
to get to know each other all over
again.
Mr.. Wrinkle sensed her staring at
him anew, in a different way. He
glanced at her, and saw that her
gaze was contemplative, searching,
a little suspicious.
He feared that she was reverting
to being a termagant, and that the
effects of his suddenly being made
into soldier were wearing off. He
supposed he couldn't be sure about
that until after the war and he re-
turned, If he did, to his regular life.
"Wilbert," she asked, "did you see
any women?"
II told you I'd send you a post
card when I found somebody else,"
he said. "You didn't get one, did
your"
NO." she admitted slowly. She
sat staring at him and he turned to
look her for an instant straight in
the eye. "I'm glad I didn't" she
told him in low voice.
Mr.. Wrinkle was happy when she
dropped the subject.
It was his turn to feel hurt when
they reached the house and sneaked
inside so none of the neighbors would
see him.
Penelope, instead of greeting him
joyously, as would have been ex-
pected, scrunched down on the floor,
growing and barking, and glaring
at him with disapproval. Mrs. Win
kle scolded her, but it made no inn
preston. Even when Mr.. Wrinkle
spoke to her coaxingly and let her
sniff his hand, she wouldn't accept
him or have anything to do with
him. So far as Penelope was con-
cerned, he was a stranger in his
own house.
It was barely daylight when he
awakened. He expected to hear the
hustle of many men moving and
cursing and the bugle tootling its
dreadful call. He listened, not quite
sure of where he was. He heard
Amy's light breathing. He looked
at his watch. 1t was exactly 5:45.
He tried to 60 back to sleep again.
This was the morning of his king
ship.
But the king couldn't sleep any
more. Harsh habit interfered, re-
fusing him his crown.
It being also his accustomed time
to eat, he felt hungry. After time
he got up quietly, put on his bath
robe, over his pajamas, and went
out. Downstairs, Penelope growled,
snarled when he spoke to her, and
snapped when he made to pat her.
He wandered outdoors just as a
strange newsboy delivered the pa
per. The boy looked at him, star
tied, then interested, then wise, and
went away whistling.
Mr.. Wrinkle didn't approve Of such
precocious behavior in one so young.
He investigated the kitchen, over
Penelope's continued protests, and
devoured odd assortments of food.
He had an idea that tickled him.
Sometime later, with a daintily
prepared tray and the newspaper
resting at one side of it, he went
in to awaken Amy. Her eyes went
wide and staring as he saluted and
announced Breakfast in bed for
you, queen"
Mr.. Wrinkle visited his shop to see
that his tools and machines were in
good order. He made small repairs
about the house. He had his photo
graph taken so that Amy could have
him up over the mantel while he was
away, or if he didn't ever return.
He talked with Mr.. Wescott, who
first laughed outright at the sight of
Mr.. Wrinkle in his uniform and then
was prone to be triumphant about
his prediction for him. "What did
tell your" he crowed. you're be-
ing used as mechanic, just like I
said. You'll stay right here"
Formerly he and Mr.. Wescott had
considered together the large and
broad scale aspects of war, and now
his neighbor expected that, as an
i actual military man, he would have
some expert ideas.
"Our antitank guns" Mr.. Wescott
inquired, "are they going to be able
to stop the Germans?"
81 don't know thing about Them"
said Mr.. Wrinkle.
"But surely in your training"
Mr.. Wrinkle coughed apologetical-
ly. 81 never saw one."
Mr.. Wescott considered. A little
of his pompousness left him and he
proposed, perhaps ! shouldn't be
asking such questions. You proba-
bly, have your orders not to let out
any military secrets"
''No," said Mr.. Wrinkle, shat isn't
it. I don't know any military Sc
crets."
"Tanks?" asked Mr.. Wescott.
''I've never seen a tank"
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