Tom Slades Double Dare | Page 9

he
had seen.... Who would be out in that lonely wood on such a night?
With a sudden, desperate impulse to challenge his fear and have done
with it, he stepped briskly toward the tree to glance about it and dispel
his illusion. If it was just some branch broken by the wind and hanging
loose....
He approached the trunk and edged around it. As he did so a form
moved around the trunk also. Hervey paused. The pounding of his heart
seemed louder than the noises of the storm. In his throat was a queer
burning sensation. He could not speak. He could not stir. The dark form
moved again, ever so little....
CHAPTER VII
THE LIGHT THAT FAILED
The suspense was worse than any outcome could be, and Hervey, in
another impulse of desperation, took a step to the right, then quickly
another to the left. This ruse brought the two face to face. And in a
flash Hervey realized that he had little to fear from one who had tried
so desperately to escape his notice.
The figure was that of a young man, his raiment torn and disordered
and utterly drenched. He wore a plaid cap, which being pulled down
over his ears by reason of the wind, gave him an appearance of
toughness which his first words belied.

"You needn't be afraid," he said.
"I'm not afraid," said Hervey. "Who are you?"
"Did you hear some one scream?" the stranger asked.
"Scream? No. It was the wind, I guess. Are you lost, or what?"
"I want to get out of here, that's all," the young man said. "This place is
full of children screaming. Did you ever kill anybody?"
"No," said Hervey, somewhat agitated.
The stranger placed a trembling hand on Hervey's shoulder. "Do you
know a person can scream after he's dead?" he said.
"I don't know," said Hervey, somewhat alarmed and not knowing what
to say. "Anyway, I have to hurry; it's up to me to save some people's
lives. There's a bridge washed away along the road."
He did not wait longer to talk with this singular stranger, but thoughts
of the encounter lingered in his mind, particularly the young fellow's
speech about dead people and children screaming. As he hurried on,
Hervey concluded that the stranger was demented and had probably
wandered away from some village in the neighborhood. He had reason
later to recall this encounter, but he soon forgot it in the more urgent
matter of reaching the road.
He had now about half a mile of level country to traverse, consisting of
fields separated by stone walls. The land was soggy, and here and there
in the lower places were areas of water. These he would not take the
time to go around, but plunged through them, often going knee deep
into the marshy bottom. It was sometimes with difficulty that he was
able to extricate his leg from these soggy entanglements.
But he no longer needed the uncertain outline of that black mass amid
the surrounding blackness to guide him, for now the cheerful lights of
an isolated house upon the road shone in the distance. There was the

road, sure enough, though he could not see it.
"That's what Slady calls deduction," he panted, as he trudged on,
running when he could, and dragging his heavy, mud-bedraggled feet
out of the mire every dozen steps or so. Over a stone wall he went and
scrambled to his feet and hastened on.
The lights in the house cheered and guided him and he made straight
for this indubitable beacon. "Mountains are all--all right," he panted,
"but kerosene lamps--for--for--mine. I hope that--bunch--doesn't go
to--bed." His heart was pounding and he had a cruel stitch in his side
from running, which pained him excruciatingly when he ran fast. He
tried scout pace but it didn't work; he was not much of a hand for that
kind of thing. "It's--it's--all--right when--you're running
through--the--handbook," he said, "but--but...."
Over another stone wall he went, tearing a great gash in his trousers,
exposing the limb to rain and wind. The ground was better for a space
and he ran desperately. Every breath he drew pained him, now and
again he staggered slightly, but he kept his feet and plunged frantically
on.
Then one of the lights in the house went out. Then another. There was
only one now. "That's--that's--what--it means for--for--people to--to go
to--to bed early," he panted with difficulty. "I--I always--said----" He
had not the breath to finish, but it is undoubtedly true that he had
always been a staunch advocate of remaining up all night.
He fixed his eyes upon the one remaining light and ran with utter
desperation. His breathing was spasmodic, he reeled, pulled himself
together by sheer will, and stumbled