[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Thrilling Wonder Stories August 1948.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
CHAPTER I
Disabled Car
Patricia Morris drove through the countryside idly, but too fast forthe time of year. It was late winter, and the road was slippery. Snowstill lay damply on the ground and there were ice floes on the lakes.
But Patricia was not driving for fun. She was driving in anger andsheer boredom. She was sick and tired of the surroundings of herhome. Another person might have liked them—and Patricia had likedthem once but, like her life, they now seemed entirely too artificial.The daughter of the Governor of the State is in a position to wonderabout the honesty of those who importune her. Since she was mentallycompetent and physically attractive, she was quick to question thetrue, often hidden, desires of the men who sought after her.
And so now Patricia, filled with boredom, was driving too fast on aslippery road. And naturally, the inevitable happened. Patricia's carskidded on a slippery spot on the road and spun completely aroundtwice. The car careened into the ditch, against a light fence-post, andwas still.
A man, clad in a heavy overcoat, muffler, and overshoes, emergedfrom the woods, approached the car and opened the door. Patricia,unconscious, fell from the car seat into the man's waiting arms.
He shook her gently, rubbed her cheek with his hand, and murmuredsoothing words to her.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"What happened?"
"You had an accident," he told her. "You should not drive so fast onslippery roads. You might get hurt."
"Am I hurt?"
"Forget it," he said, propping her back into her seat in the car. "It'sbeen fun!"
So saying, the man leaned forward and kissed Patricia full on the lips.Then he turned and left, heading across the road into the woods, wherehe disappeared.
He left nothing—but the tingle of his caress.
She swore softly in a cool contralto.
Getting out of the car, she looked it over. The right front wheel wasdished; the left fender was turned under against the wheel.
Furthermore, no one without a tow truck could ever set that car on theroad again for driving, even after it was repaired.
Patricia kicked the wheel with a small overshoe and swore again.
Then she laughed, and in the cool air, her voice tinkled happily.
Boredom? This time she had escaped it.
From the glove compartment in the car, Patricia took a road map andspread it out over the hood. It was thirty miles to the nearest townalong either way of the road. Through the woods, however, it was notfar. A few miles.
It was about noon, and the air was exhilarating and Patricia waswell clothed. Somehow the idea of trudging along the hard concreteof the road seemed less fun than cutting through the woods. Gettinglost didn't bother her. She wouldn't get lost. Using her nail filewith sheer womanlike ability to work mechanical miracles, Patriciadisconnected the little automobile compass fastened to the windshieldand looked at it carefully.
"Die true, North-Northeast," she said aloud. She blew out her breathand shrugged at the little white cloud. She'd be cold by then, but notfrozen.
What fun!
Deep in the woods, the snow tapered off to nothing. The ground was notdamp as with freshly-melted snow, but dry. A duck pond a little fartheron was clear and not a spot of ice marred i