The fugitive paused, undecided. Which way shouldhe turn? The much better travelled highway seemed less mys-terious and awesome, yet would his pursuers not natur-ally assume that he had followed it? Then, of course,the right hand road was the road for him. Yet still hehesitated, for the right hand road was yellow and forbid-ding; suggesting the entrance to a pit of unknown hor-rors.

As he stood there with the rain and the wind, thethunder and the lightning, horror of the past and terrorof the future his only companions there broke suddenlythrough the storm the voice of a man just ahead andevidently approaching along the highway.

The youth turned to flee; but the thought of the mentracking him from that direction brought him to a sud-den halt. There was only the road to the right, then,after all. Cautiously he moved toward it, and at thesame time the words of the voice came clearly throughthe night:

"'. . . as, swinging heel and toe,