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Show The Fiction RAY CASHES IN ;w Corner they were a half hour on the road. "We'd better take the old road through the woods," he said. "It will shorten the journey by five miles." Sheila thought this would be a good idea. They left the main highway high-way and cut through the woods. But neither anticipated that the storm would reach such proportions. propor-tions. Two miles from the highway they got stuck. Ray didn't mince matters. He confronted the situation squarely. The chances were even that both would perish. At any rate, he had something he wanted to ask Sheila in case he didn't get a chance later on. He asked it. Sheila thought of many things, among them what a ninny she'd been. Ray was the man she loved, the only man she could ever love. With death staring her in the face she realized this to be a fact. She put her arms around Ray's neck and told him exactly how she felt. An hour later Sheila dropped off into a doze. When she awoke she was lying on a couch before a blazing blaz-ing fire. Ray was feeding her hot soup. No one could have believed Ray Sharon capable of stratagem. He was too definitely catalogued. Which is why not even Sheila suspected sus-pected that he had planned it all; that he knew about the camp, had stocked it with firewood and provisions, pro-visions, had stalled his car on purpose, pur-pose, had removed most of the fuel. It had required a courage which he. had never suspected he possessed pos-sessed to cash in on his assets. NO ONE would have believed Ray Sharon capable of stratagem. strata-gem. One look at him and you would have catalogued him in the reserved, conservative class of young men who adhered to the ac- cepted patterns I dictated by pro- 3 -Minilte priety and con-Ci,; con-Ci,; vention. He was F'Ctl0n j a good looking boy with soft brown eyes and a sensitive mouth. He worked as a clerk in the South-port South-port Trust Company. There was a future there for him. It occurred not even to Ray that the fine reputation he had could be used as an asset, cashed in on. Not, that is, until Phil Clairmont came to town. Clairmont had been born in Southport. At 18 he had gone off to college and not returned. He had been a football hero, an Ail-American quarterback. After graduation he had sold bonds and coached football teams and written magazine maga-zine articles on gridiron tactics and given a series of lectures over the radio. He had made quite a success. Two winters later Phil returned re-turned to his home town for the Christmas holidays. The folks gave him quite a reception. They held parties for him and asked him to talk at this function and that. He stayed through New Year's, which was longer than he intended. The reason that he stayed was Sheila Farnsworth, who taught the seventh grade. Sheila was a native of Southport. She had wheat-colored hair and blue eyes. She had known Ray Sharon all her life. She liked him. When they grew up and Ray began be-gan taking her around, she was quite happy. pHIL CLAIRMONT met her at one of the many parties that were held in his honor. He remembered remem-bered who she was and was quite surprised that she had grown up and blossomed into something that was easy to look at. Sheila was. after all, only a normal nor-mal girl. Phil Clairmont was famous. When Phil took an interest in her she was flattered. It gave her a recognition that most any girl would have delighted in. No one blamed her. No one condemned her for it. If anyone felt about it at all it was a sensation of envy. A few wondered about Ray Sharon. A smaller few felt sorry for him. Occasionally she saw Ray and thus it happened that one wintry night Ray and Sheila set out in the former's coupe for the distant town of Merkdale to attend a banker's hall there. It began to snow before |