Outside, the woods lay basking in clear sunlight, trees a roit of colour, air full of Autumn's tang and the sharp, exciting smell of moist, leaf covered the earth.
Inside, a man smiled grimly as he turned from the bathroom cabinet, entered the expensively primitive living room of his mountain camp, and crossed to a closet in the pine wall.
It was his special closet with the spring lock and in it he kept guns, ammunition, fishing rods and liquor. Not even his wife, Ruby was allowed to have a look, Judson Webb loved his personal possessions and felt a sense of deep outrage if they were touched by any hand but his own.
The closet door stood open, he had been packing his things away for the winter, and in few minutes would be driving back to civilization.
As he looked at the shelf on which the liquor stood his smile was not attractive. All the bottles were unopened except one quart of Bourbon which was placed invitingly in front, a whiskey glass by its side. The bottle was less than half full.
As he took it from the shelf his wife spoke from the adjoining bedroom.
"I am all packed, Judson", said Ruby.
"Hasn't James come to turn the water off and get the keys?".
James lived about a mile down the road and acted as a caretaker for the city folks when they were away.
"He is down at the lake taking the boats out of water. Said he would be back in half an hour", replied Judson.
Ruby came into the room carrying her suitcase. But she paused in surprise as she saw the bottle in her husband's hand.
"Judson! She exclaimed, you are not taking a drink at 9 o'clock in the morning?!"
"You wrong me, my dear!", He chuckled.
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