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Show The Fiction THE THREESOME Richard H. Wilkinson Corner rpHAT MAN," Janice thought as 1 she brought her roadster to a halt, "has possibilities. It can't be that he lives here." He stood just inside the picket fence six feet of tall leaness. Fair hair. Blue eyes. Bespeaking the easy arrogance of youth. He wore a blue cotton shirt and blue denim jeans. "You're not Janice Burdon?" he said.- And then at her expression: "Heavens, you are! Why couldn't Aunt Bertha have warned me?" "Is Aunt Bertha your aunt, too?" "My real aunt. You only call her auntie because she's a close friend of your mother. 3 That makes us MinUtB not cousins," he Fiction added with frank I relief. Janice rescued her suitcase from the rumble seat. "This is like one of those things you read about," he grinned, taking tak-ing it from her. He studied her with honest approval. "And I thought my vacation was going to be one of those dull, uninteresting things." Minutes later Janice faced her hot days in the sun, long lonely evenings. Even the thought of a farm had made her shudder. She wondered about Phil., He claimed to be a law firm member on vacation. It occurred to her that for a lawyer he was mighty skillful handling pruning clippers. And his knowledge of farming was profound. pro-found. , THE SECOND DAY or their vacation they knocked off early and went for a swim. The third day they played tennis. ten-nis. The fourth Aunt Bertha packed them a lunch and they drove to Mount Carter, climbed to its summit and watched a glorious sunset while nibbling delicious sandwiches. On the second Saturday following her arrival she was with Phil. They had climbed Mount Carter again, had sat for long, silent moments watching the afterglow of a blood-red blood-red sunset. Unexpectedly Phil said: "Well it's gone. And our vacation has gone. Tonight winds up the two weeks." "There's always an end to nice things," she told him, evasively. "There doesn't have to be. Ever. Listen," he went on eagerly. "I gave you the wrong impression about myself. I'm not a successful lawyer. I never should have tried to be a lawyer. Thank heavens I realized the mistake before it was too late." "You mean you're not leaving? You're staying here?" He nodded. "I'm going to try and raise apples. Auntie and I are going to be partners. This fall I'll sell what we have and next spring set out new trees. He picked up her hand. "Honey, let's make it a threesome. I know it's a lot to ask," he added wistfully. "A city girl like you. It'll be dull. But eventually " "I could chip in my roadster," Janice cried excitedly. "It's all I have, but it ought to bring $500. How many apple trees can you buy with $500, darling?" "Enough," said Phil, reading her eyes, "to keep from being lonesomeI lone-someI guess." Aunt Bertha in the bed chamber over the front parlor. "Oh, Auntie, why didn't you tell me he was going to be here? I didn't bring a thing. Not a thing, except my shorts, two cotton dresses and a bathing bath-ing suit." "Who?" Aunt Bertha asked innocently. in-nocently. "Phil? Land sakes, don't worry about him. He dropped in unexpectedly yesterday and announced an-nounced he was here for two weeks. He's a dear boy. You'll like him. The next day Janice accompanied Phil up to the north pasture and watched him prune apple trees. "I thought this was your vacation," she said after awhile. "It is," he told her. "I like working work-ing on my vacations out doors." She wondered about Phil. He pointed away over the fields. "Some day I'd like to see all those fields set out to apple trees." Two days ago she wouldn't have believed him. She was city born and city bred. To her a farm had always symbolized hard work and a poor living, bugs and snakes and |