Part 43 (1/2)

CHAPTER XX.

On a low point of land formed by a bend in the Willamette, a couple of boys were playing at what is termed ”skipping.” The exercise consisted in throwing a stone so as to make it skim along the surface of the water in a series of long skips, the greater number of skips attesting the skill of the thrower. The surface of the river was very smooth and placid, which was a factor in tempting the boys to the exercise. They had been at it for some time and, boy-like, in their enthusiasm, had overdone it, and consequently were beginning to f.a.g, when one of them suddenly spied an exceptionally smooth, round flat stone, suitable for the purpose, and stooped to pick it up. The other boy, a short distance behind him, seeing his opportunity, cried out in a frolicksome spirit:

”Hi! Gene! Hold, there.” And he immediately ran and, placing his two hands on the stooping boy's back, lightly leaped over him, straddle fas.h.i.+on, and then himself took a stooping position further on, subject to a like performance.

At once the sport known as ”leap-frog” was entered into with zest by the boys. It carried them some distance along the river sh.o.r.e, and they were so engrossed with the new exercise, which sustained in their case, at all events, the old adage that, ”A change of occupation is a good recreation,” as to be entirely oblivious of approaching a solitary woman dressed in sober gray, sitting on a stump of driftwood near the water's edge and gazing vacantly on the river.

One of the boys, named Gene, big-limbed, loose-jointed and clumsy, in doing his turn, and while astraddle the ”frog,” lost his balance and tumbled sideways, dragging the under boy over with him. The smaller boy, named Spike, got to his feet first, and with a fire in his eye, angrily said: ”Youse do it again and I'll smash you one.”

”I couldn't help it. It was your fault, anyway, Why didn't you hold steady,” replied Gene.

”You big lubber; youse done it on purpose.” said Spike, rubbing his s.h.i.+n. ”I'm not going to play any more,” and as he turned away, muttered to himself: ”I've a notion to soak him one.”

”Oh, look!” cried Gene. ”A woman's agoing in swimming with her clothes on!” The boys at once forgot their differences, drew close together and watched her with much curiosity.

”Say, but the water is cold. I was in yesterday and couldn't stay a minute,” said Gene. ”Gee, but I got my clothes on quick! I was near froze.”

”She's skeart already; see how she's looking about--must-a lost somethin'.”

”Let's ask her,” said Gene.

”Youse shut up, won't you.”

”She's saying something. Hear?”

”Sounds like 'Dorothy,'” said Spike. ”Look at her dig them hands in the water.”

”Say, she's crazy, sure!” whispered Gene.

At which they drew back awe-struck, yet fascinated by the grotesque buffoonery inseparable from the insane.

”Somebody'd better go and phone the cops,” whispered Spike, excitedly.

”She'll get drowned, and then we'll get in a bar'l of trubble.”

”I'll go,” said Gene, half frightened, and glad of an excuse to get away from the uncanny spectacle. ”Who's got a phone near here?” he asked.

”Up at the big house, yonder. Harris'. They's got one, but youse don't want to leave me here alone with that crazy woman. She's coming ash.o.r.e. Kin youse hear what she's saying?” They listened intently.

”I'm sure I saw her,” she said in tones strangely pitiful. ”Her golden hair floated on the surface like a silken mesh--then sank down, down--ah, there it is again.” And she outstretched her hand and tried to grasp something.

”Gone again! Oh! I wish someone would help me get her. I am so tired and the river is so deep and cold,” and as she stepped out from the water onto the s.h.i.+ngle, her frame s.h.i.+vered as with a chill. She sat on the stump of driftwood, fatigued by exertion.

”Let's go and talk to her,” whispered Gene.

”Youse better not. Youse can't tell what them crazy people will do sometimes. They ack queer mighty sudden.”