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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Freckles"


Face down, Sarah Duncan lay across the trail. When Freckles turned her
over, his blood chilled at the look of horror settled on her face. There
was a low humming and something spatted against him. Glancing around,
Freckles shivered in terror, for there was a swarm of wild bees settled
on a scrub-thorn only a few yards away. The air was filled with excited,
unsettled bees making ready to lead farther in search of a suitable
location. Then he thought he understood, and with a prayer of
thankfulness in his heart that she had escaped, even so narrowly, he
caught her up and hurried down the trail until they were well out of
danger. He laid her in the shade, and carrying water from the swamp
in the crown of his hat, he bathed her face and hands; but she lay in
unbroken stillness, without a sign of life.
She had found Freckles' boots so large and heavy that she had gone back
and taken them off, although she was mortally afraid to approach the
swamp without them. The thought of it made her nervous, and the fact
that she never had been there alone added to her fears.


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