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Show FICTiON EpTI,iON Bit I Co it wet 1 ::Jlyl about like worrying about the crops or planning something else. Such worries looked pretty inconsequential inconsequen-tial now. And unless he could get out of the well, there wouldn't be any more planning. Thinking of the line made him think of the boys who had been his schoolmates and playmates in those long-past days Tom, George, Cecil, Jimmy, Fred and many' others whose names he could not even recall. Where were they now? He hadn't seen one of them for years. Dimly their faces appeared out of the past, and then the line came bobbing back, blotting them out. "NEVER PUT OFF TILL TOMORROW TOMOR-ROW WHAT YOU CAN DO TODAY." TO-DAY." Why couldn't the line stay away, he thought angrily. It couldn't do him any good now. His dog began barking at . a squirrel maybe. Or was somebody coming? He shouted for help, hopefully hope-fully at first, but as the minutes went by, despairingly. The dog continued to bark. Probably Prob-ably at a squirrel, for there were many of them about. "Where are you?" some one called faintly. After the stranger had found a ladder and helped him out, Thornton Thorn-ton said, "I should have fixed that long ago. 'Way back when I was in the second grade I wrote in my copybook about 'leven hundred times, 'NEVER PUT OFF TILL TOMORROW WHAT YOU CAN DO TODAY,' and I've certainly found out now how wise that is." "I suppose that makes good sense always,',' agreed the other, "unless there's an exception to prove the rule." "Well, if every rule has an exception, excep-tion, this was no exception, anyway," any-way," Thornton said, adding suddenly, sud-denly, "Say, how did you happen to come?" "I represent the Valley Farmer. . Your subscription has run out." Thornton laughed". "There's the exception ex-ception we were talking about. I got a letter from your paper a month ago asking me to renew. I've put off sending the money again and again, but if I hadn't put it off, you wouldn't have come today." c" ' ;..' - -":.'.- ,- -vir-.ji v..i..v,-'..'aj., tvj.v1 '""n Wife ' ! r.- :fr lWrfi- F v N ' - , v W 1 t 1 1 ' DOWN in the well, with no way of getting out and with little hope of rescue, Chris Thornton remem-t remem-t bered the line he had written over i and over in his copybook some 40 ! years before. "NEVER PUT OFF I TILL TOMORROW WHAT YOU j CAN DO TODAY." He could fairly j see the large round letters he had so laboriously formed with pen held stiffly in ink-smeared fingers. The line had had little meaning for him then just some words that he must write over and over until ! Miss Curry was satisfied. And Miss : Curry had been hard to satisfy. Its ! 'meaning was brought home sharply to him now when perhaps it was too late. However, the former owner of the farm had let so many things about the place run down that he had time only to take care of what seemed most necessary. Undoubtedly, he thought ruefully, it would have been wiser to replace the rotten boards that covered the abandoned well, even though his cows might have stepped over a fallen wire to trample tram-ple his promising corn. All day he had been fixing fences, and coming home he had forgotten about the well which he could not see in the darkness. An ankle had been hurt in the fall perhaps sprained or broken. It was swollen I and painful, and probably would be worse by morning. ! He struck a match and looked at ; bis watch. Twenty to nine. Surely it must be later than that, for it i seemed like hours since he had i fallen. He held the watch to his ear; i It was running now anyway. Never before had a night been so unending. Snatches of sleep came at intervals, sleep broken by torturous dreams in which he was forever climbing, yet never quite reaching the top. ; How long, he wondered, could a man live without water? And how soon would anyone miss him? Not I soon enough, he was certain. The farm lay in a lonely place and a car seldom passed over the grass-grown grass-grown road. He had had few visitors during the months he had lived here. Lou Edwards, his nearest neighbor, had stopped in several times, but it was unlikely that Edwards Ed-wards would come again soon for he ! - had little time for visiting since his last boy had left. Thornton knew that a man could climb out of a well without a ladder by bracing his back against one side and getting a toehold between the stones on the opposite side. He had seen It done though he had never i tried it himself. To try it now, when . his foot was so painful he could not stand on it, was out of the question. "Should've busted my neck instead," in-stead," he muttered bitterly. "That would have ended the misery sooner." The stars faded from the small circle of sky that he could see. Gradually light entered the well. Whining softly, his dog looked down at him; probably she had been sitting sit-ting there all night, waiting for him to come up. If only there were a way to have the dog summon help. He might as well forget that. There wasn't any way. He wished it would rain, for enough water might run down into the well to satisfy his growing thirst. Then too, Edwards might find time to come; his other visits had been made on rainy days. Might as well forget that too. It wouldn't rain. Why did that copybook line keep looming before his eyes? Otherwise he never thought of things that happened hap-pened so long ago. Of course, other-prise other-prise he had other things to think How long, he wondered, could a man live without water? And how soon would anyone miss him? Not soon enough, he was certain. |