The Thinking Machine Collected Stories Part 182

" 'Wait till morning?' I complained. 'Why man, there's a storm coming! I've got to get to Millen.'

" 'Can't help that,' was the reply. 'Law's law, you know. I'd be sorter skeered, anyway, to draw gasolene now.'

"Here was another dilemma, unexpected as it was annoying. The tone of the voice left no room for argument, and I knew the obstinacy of this man's type. I was prepared, therefore, to accept the inevitable.

" 'Well, if you can't draw any gasolene to-night, can you give me a bite to eat and put me up till morning?' I asked. 'I can't stay out in this storm.'

" 'Ain't got no room,' explained the man. 'Jus' enough s.p.a.ce up here for me an' the dog, an' he kinder crowds.'

" 'Well, something must be done,' I insisted. 'What is the price of your gasolene?' I added by way of suggestion.

" 'Twenty-five cents a gallon in day time.'

" 'Well, how is fifty cents a gallon at night?' I went on.

"The whitecapped head was withdrawn, and the window banged down suddenly. For a moment I thought I had hopelessly offended some puritanical old man of the woods; but then a light glowed inside the store, and the front door opened. I stepped inside. The light came from a safety lantern in the hands of a shrunken shanked, little old man, who proceeded to draw the gasolene.

" 'How far is it to Millen?' I inquired casually.

" 'Calculate as how it's about five miles.'

" 'Straight roads?'

" 'Straight 'cept where it bends,' he replied. 'They ain't no turnout nor nothin'. You can't go wrong 'less you climb a fence.'

"The gasolene was drawn and paid for, after which the old man accompanied me to the automobile with his safety lantern. He stood looking on curiously as I filled the tank.

" ' 'Pears to be a right smart storm comin' up,' he remarked consolingly.

"I glanced upward. Every star point was lost now behind an impenetrable veil of black; there was a whispering, sighing sound of wind in the trees.

" 'I think I can beat it into Millen,' I replied hopefully.

" 'I cal'late as how you oughter,' responded the old man. 'Ain't no thunder an' lightnin' yet, an' I cal'late as how they'll be a pile of it before it rains.'

"I handed back the empty gasolene can, cranked up, then climbed aboard my car. There was a whir as I touched the power lever, and the machine trembled beneath me.

" 'If I should get caught before I get to Millen, is there any place I might stop,' I inquired.

" 'I cal'late as how you might stop anywhere,' the old man chuckled; 'but they ain't no houses nor nothin'. They ain't even a dog kennel 'tween here an' Millen. But they ain't no turnouts, an' you can hit it up as fast as you want to. You'll be all right.'

"A sudden gust of wind brought a whirling cloud of dust upon us, and the thinly clad old man scampered off into the house.

" 'Good night,' I called.

" 'Good night,' he answered, and the door slammed.

"I backed my car, then straightened out into the road, a wide yellow stretch, as smooth as asphalt, where the swirling, eddying winds awoke little dust devils to play. Then I kicked loose the speed gear, pulled the lever far back, and went plunging off into the night.

"It might have been only my imagination, or it might have been that, as the car swept on, I heard some one calling me; I'll never know which. But the lowering clouds and a quickened rush of wind did not make a stop inviting; so the car sped on.

"I knew a capital little all night restaurant in Millen, and was speculating pleasantly as to whether it should be a chop and a mug of ale, or a more substantial steak and potatoes. I was aroused from this antic.i.p.atory mood by the fact that the glittering lamps of my car showed me straight ahead two roads instead of one. Two roads! Here was another unexpected annoyance. I brought the automobile to a stop, in doubt and perplexity.

"To the right the road ran off into the thickening forest, as far as the steady light gleams showed; to the left it seemed a little more marked, as if more traveled, and where the light melted into the enveloping blackness it appeared to widen. I leaped out of the car and went forward, seeking a guide post or something to show my way. There was nothing.

"Then I remembered that I had a road map in my pocket. Of course that would tell me. A grumble of thunder came from far off as I drew near the car to examine the map in the light. Here was Pelham, and here was Millen; here even the little store where I stopped, marked with a star, which meant that gasolene was to be procured there. Now I was somewhere between that store and Millen. The map was a large one. It should show not only the main road, but every little bypath that cut athwart it. Yet from the little store to Millen the road was an unbroken line. There was no branch road on the map; and yet here was one.

"I was perplexed, impatient, and incidentally starving; so hastily made up my mind which road to take: the left and more beaten one. Heaping maledictions upon the head of the man who drew that particular map, I started to climb into the car again, when the veil of night was cleft by a vivid zigzag flash of lightning. It startled me, blinded me almost, and was followed instantly by the crash and roar of thunder.

"Then came another sound,-a curdling, nerve racking scream,-a scream of agony, of pain, of fear,-a hideous, awful thing which seemed to stop my heart for one fearful instant, then was lost in the thunder of the approaching storm. Suddenly all was silent again, save for the wind as it whipped its way through the forest.

"I was not a nervous man; so after the first shock the blood rushed back to my heart, my head cleared, and I was perfectly calm. But I stood waiting with my foot on the step-waiting and listening. I argued calmly. Some one was evidently in distress. But where? In what direction? The singing wind, the whirling dust, left me no guess. And then again came that scream, this time a series of quick, sharp shrieks ending in a wail which made me clench my hands until the nails bit into the flesh, and left me weak and trembling absurdly.

"But now I had the direction. The cries had come apparently from the road, somewhere behind me. I walked to the rear of the car where the tail light shot out a feeble ray, and stood peering off into the blackness in the direction whence I had come. At first I could distinguish nothing, then a white, intangible something slowly grew out of the night,-something hazy, floating, indistinct, yet unmistakably something. Fascinated, I stood still and continued to stare. The floating white figure seemed to grow sensibly larger and clearer. It was coming toward me; it would cross the path of the light in another moment. I caught my breath and waited.

"Suddenly again came the reverberating crash of thunder, nearer and louder, but unaccompanied by lightning. Instantly, as if in echo, came that scream again. Obviously it was some one in distress,-a woman perhaps, lost in the woods and in terror of the approaching storm. If this was true then there was only one thing to do; go to her relief.

"I stopped and tugged at the tail lamp to release it from its fastenings. A ragged edge cut my hand cruelly; but I hardly felt the sting. At last the light was free in my hand, and I started with it back along the road to where I had seen the figure. With the lamp thrust straight out in front of me at arm's length I ran back ten yards, twenty, fifty, and saw-nothing. I screened the light with my hand, and peered about through the gloom, and saw-nothing.

"A panic was growing upon me. I flashed the light to the right, to the left, and it showed only the gaunt, silent trees, straight ahead of me along the yellow road, and behind me toward the panting automobile. There was nothing-absolutely nothing! I rushed back to the car; but no one was there. I called aloud; but the grim forest gave me back only the sound of my own voice, mingled with the swishing of the wind.

"Then I stopped still in silence and awe, and listened. For a long time I stood there, light in hand, until the silence grew more terrifying than the screams had been. I wanted to hear that scream again now, to bring relief to my bursting heart and shaking nerves, to tell me that it was real and not some trick of overwrought fancy. But the silence was unbroken save for the freshening gusts of air which stirred the dry leaves and rained them down in a gentle patter.

"Finally I turned and walked back to where the car stood throbbing like a living, breathing thing. It gave me confidence. I struck the tonneau with my open palm, and laughed suddenly at my unreasoning terror. It was absurd, a school boy running from his shadow, and here I was a man-a sound, healthy, hungry man. I had heard the screams, I knew; I had seen the floating white figure. There was nothing very remarkable about it; it was a thing to be explained, of course.

"So now, deliberately I searched the road again, this time with the light turned toward the ground. I went along, stooping, seeking footprints. I found none; but I could explain even that; the wind gusts had covered them with dust, obliterated them.

"I straightened up suddenly. Something had sounded, something louder than the rustling of the leaves, something louder even than the creaking of the trees. It was a crackling sound-a sound that might have been a foot pressure upon dry twigs. It seemed to be to the left, and I turned the light in that direction. Grotesque shadows danced and swayed as the trees reeled about me. Then high up where the light straggled through the branches I saw something white-dead white!

"I cleared the road at a stride and plunged into the forest with the light turned upward. I stumbled over rocks half buried in the leaves; I slipped once into a ditch which I couldn't see. Finally my foot struck a fallen tree, and I went forward sprawling on my hands and knees. The lamp rolled beyond my reach, and utter blackness swooped down as the light was smothered in the underbrush. As I groped for it I heard again that crackling sound as of breaking twigs. Perhaps it was coming toward me-and I couldn't see!

"At last my frantic fingers closed on the lamp, and I shot the light high above my head, seeking that white something up among the trees. It was gone! I paused to wipe the perspiration from my brow, and tore my collar loose. A sudden shower of leaves came down upon my head; there was another zigzag flash of lightning, a nearby roll of thunder, and the sinister patter of raindrops falling about me like leaden bullets. The storm had burst.

"Heedless of all the intangible horrors of that lonely spot in the forest, maddened by terror at the inexplicable things which had befallen me, I stumbled back to the pulsating automobile, clambered in, and sent it forward headlong on the road to the left,-the well beaten road,-the road which bore evidence of constant travel. The pace was furious; for somewhere behind me I felt was a misty, floating figure of white, and somewhere a woman screaming. The rain beat me in the face steadily; the lightning burst forth in livid, flaming tongues; the thunder crashed about me,-and my only haven was Millen.

"Suddenly the road widened where a path cut through the dense wood, and was lost in a perspective of gloom. A single sidelong glance at it as I rushed past told me it was wider than would be naturally worn by persons pa.s.sing, and yet not wide enough for my car, nor even for a narrow wagon. Here that road map was at fault again. I remembered that grimly, even as the automobile went splashing along through growing pools of water and invisible ruts in the wagonway. I clung grimly to the steering wheel with only one idea in mind: to get to Millen. Already I was wet through from the terrific downpour, and a chilling numbness was seizing upon my limbs.

"Gradually the road turned toward the left, or so it seemed to me. But that too might have been the effect of an overwrought brain. The road did not look so much traveled now, despite the deceptive ruts into which my wheels sank with maddening frequency. Yet beneath its sheet of water the steadily gleaming lights showed that there was a road, plainly marked. For a minute or more, I suppose, I went straight on, desperately, recklessly; then an illuminating flash across the sky showed me that I was plunging into open country, and that the forest was gradually receding.

"Finally, through the swirling, drenching rain, I saw a faint rosy point in the distance. Whatever it was, a lantern I supposed, it at least indicated the presence of some fellow human being. I drove straight toward it. The gleam did not falter or fade. Another dazzling burst of lightning answered my question as to the nature of the light. It was in a farm house,-a farm house out here where there weren't any farm houses, squatting in an open field, a ramshackle, two-storied affair. But at least it would serve to shelter me from the fury of the storm. I took in all of it at one glance, even to a small shed in the rear where I might store my machine.

"I didn't pause to call as I drew near, but drove to the shed and ran my car in. Then, guided by the constant lightning flashes, I walked round to the front of the farm house, pa.s.sing through the stream of light from the window as I went. It cheered me, that light. It offered an unexpected haven, that physical refreshment of which I was so much in need, possible companionship, and above all a refuge.

"I knocked on the front door loudly, the thunder was rolling incessantly now, then shook the water from my dripping garments. I waited-waited patiently enough for half a minute, I suppose. There was no answering sound of any sort, and again I knocked, this time insistently, even clamorously. Still no answer. It was not difficult to imagine that the continuous roar of the elements had drowned the feeble knock, and I repeated the performance with several thumping, banging variations. Still no answer.

"Even in this desperate strait I did not care to enter the house as a thief might, by forcing my way, and run the risk too of being received as a thief, possibly with a bullet. So I stepped down from the veranda, and went to the lighted window, intending to attract attention by rapping on the gla.s.s. My first glimpse told me no one was there; but the room gave every evidence of occupancy. A big cheerful log fire was burning, and its flickering light showed books strewn about here and there, inviting chairs, a table, and all the little knickknacks that make a comfortable sitting room. There beside that brightly blazing fire was comfort, and here the penetrating chill of the storm.

"I had no further scruples about it. I was going into that room! I ran up the steps, and was just reaching out my hand to try the k.n.o.b, when the latch clicked, and slowly, silently, the door swung open. Naturally I expected to meet some one,-some one who had antic.i.p.ated me in lifting the latch,-but I saw no one. The door had merely opened, revealing a rather long, broad hallway, with a stair in the distance, and unlighted save for the reflection from the sitting room. I took just two steps across the threshold, enough to get out of the swirling rain, then stopped and called. No one answered. I called a second time. For a wonder the thunders were silent just then, and there was no sound save that of my own voice. I ventured along the hall to the sitting room door and looked in. It was cozy, warm, comfortable, more so even than I had imagined when I looked in through the window.