Dangerous Days

The night car jolted and swayed. After a time he dozed, and Anna,

watching him, made an attempt at flight. He caught her on the rear

platform, however, with a clutch that sickened her. The conductor eyed

them with the scant curiosity of two o'clock in the morning, when all

the waking world is awry.

At last they were climbing the hill to the cottage, while behind and

below them the Spencer furnaces sent out their orange and violet flames,

and the roar of the blast sounded like the coming of a mighty wind.

The cottage was dark. Rudolph put down the suitcase, and called Herman

softly through his hands. Above they could hear him moving, and his

angry voice came through the open window.

"What you want?"

"Come down. It's Rudolph."

But when he turned Anna was lying in a dead faint on the garden path, a

crumpled little heap of blissful forgetfulness. When Herman came down,

it was to find Rudolph standing over her, the suitcase still in his

hand, and an ugly scowl on his face.

"Well, I got her," he said. "She's scared, that's all." He prodded

her with his foot, but she did not move, and Herman bent down with his

candle.

He straightened.

"Bring her in," he said, and led the way into the house. When Rudolph

staggered in, with Anna in his arms, he found Herman waiting and

fingering the leather strap.