Quills Window

Quill's Window

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Quill's Window, by George Barr
McCutcheon (#13 in our series by George Barr McCutcheon)
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how
the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since
1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of
Volunteers!*****
Title: Quill's Window
Author: George Barr McCutcheon
Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6044] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on October 23, 2002]

Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, QUILL'S
WINDOW ***

Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.

[Illustration: "What are you doing up here?"]
QUILL'S WINDOW
BY GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
FRONTISPIECE BY
C. ALLAN GILBERT

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
THE FORBIDDEN ROCK II THE STORY THE OLD MAN TOLD
III COURTNEY THANE IV DOWD'S TAVERN V TRESPASS VI
CHARLIE WEBSTER ENTERTAINS VII COURTNEY APPEARS
IN PUBLIC VIII ALIX THE THIRD IX A MID-OCTOBER DAY X
THE CHIMNEY CORNER XI THANE VISITS TWO HOUSES XII
WORDS AND LETTERS XIII THE OLD INDIAN TRAIL XIV

SUSPICION XV THE FACE AT THE WINDOW XVI ROSABEL
XVII SHADOWS XVIII MR. GILFILLAN IS PUZZLED XIX
BRINGING UP THE PAST XX THE DISAPPEARANCE OF
ROSABEL VICK XXI OUT OF THE NIGHT XXII THE THROWER
OF STONES XXIII A MESSAGE AND ITS ANSWER XXIV AT
QUILL'S WINDOW

QUILL'S WINDOW
CHAPTER I
THE FORBIDDEN ROCK

A young man and an old one sat in the shade of the willows beside the
wide, still river. The glare of a hot August sun failed to penetrate the
shelter in which they idled; out upon the slow-gliding river it beat
relentlessly, creating a pale, thin vapour that clung close to the
shimmering surface and dazzled the eye with an ever-shifting glaze.
The air was lifeless, sultry, stifling; not a leaf, not a twig in the tall,
drooping willows moved unless stirred by the passage of some vagrant
bird.
The older man sat on the ground, his back against the trunk of a tree
that grew so near to the edge that it seemed on the point of toppling
over to shatter the smooth, green mirror below. Some of its sturdy
exposed roots reached down from the bank into the water, where they
caught and held the drift from upstream,--reeds and twigs and matted
grass,--a dirty, sickly mass that swished lazily on the flank of the
slow-moving current.
The water here in the shade was deep and clear and limpid, contrasting
sharply with the steel-white surface out beyond.
The young man occupied a decrepit camp stool, placed conveniently
against the trunk of another tree hard by. A discarded bamboo rod lay

beside him on the bank, the hook and line hopelessly tangled in the
drift below. He smoked cigarettes.
His companion held a well-chewed black cigar in the vise-like corner
of his mouth. His hook and line were far out in the placid water, an
ordinary cork serving as a "bob" from which his dreary, unwavering
gaze seldom shifted.
"I guess they're through bitin' for today," he remarked, after a long
unbroken silence.
"How many have we got?" inquired the other languidly.
"Between us we've got twenty-four. That's a fair-sized mess. Sunfish
don't make much of a showing unless you get a barrel of 'em."
"Good eating though," mused the young man.
"Fried in butter," supplemented the other. "What time is it?"
"Half-past nine."
"Well, that's just about what I'd figured. I've been fishin' in this 'hole'
for something like forty years, off and on, and I've found out that these
here sunfish get through breakfast at exactly eighteen minutes past nine.
I always allow about ten minutes' leeway in case one or two of 'em
might have been out late the night before or something,--but as a
general thing they're pretty dog-goned prompt for breakfast. Specially
in August. Even a fish is lazy in August. Look at that fish-worm. By
gosh, it's BOILED! That shows you how hot the water is."
He removed the worm from the hook and slowly began to