"I will walk down the road and say goodbye at the farmhouse" she said quietly. "You can pick me up there".
She had made up her mind to tell James wife. Someone had to know.
"Okay, my dear." He smiled.
As she went down the path he started to close the closet door then paused as he remembered his hunting boots drawing outside on the porch. They belonged in the closet, so leaving the door open he went to fetch them from the heavy, rustic table on which they stood, along with his bag and top coat. James was coming up from the lake and waved to him from a distance.
A chipmunk, hearing Judson's heavy tread, abandoned the acorn he was about to add to his store within the cabin wall and disappeared, like an electric bulb burning out. Judson, reaching for his boots, step fairly upon the acorn, his foot slid from under him and his head struck the massive table as he fell.
Several minutes later he begin to regain his senses. James supported him as he lay on the porch and kindly voice was saying: "Twarn't much of a fall. You are not cut none, just knocked out for a minute or two. Here take this, it will pull you together."
A small whisky glass was pressed to his lips. Dazed and half conscious, he drank.
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THE END!____________________________
