Swamp Sister by Robert Edmond Alter

By Robert Edmond Alter

Swamp Sister by means of modify, Robert Edmond

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Sample text

Then he heard a forcible whisper, implying false anger. " Shad frowned, testing the girl-voice in his memory. It just might be Dorry Mears. And instantly a swath of absurd jealousy cut through him, not because Dorry had ever meant anything to him, but because she was young and pretty and full of tease. He listened. "--You're the meanest--" And another giggle. It _was_ Dorry Mears. Shad's lips pulled back from his teeth, slowly. He grinned maliciously and stooping, felt around on the edge of the road until his hand fumbled over a fist-sized rock.

But the tactile feel of the brief case that contained a fortune conquered. He didn't monkey with the lock. He punctured the case near the clasp with the knife and sawed a six-inch incision. He didn't have the patience for more, dug his hand inside and brought it out with a fistful of damp ten-dollar bills. He laughed. He couldn't help it, didn't want to. He tipped back his head and roared. Until that moment the slough had brooded with the hush of an empty cathedral. Now the strident cry of a water bird ripped up the silence and was joined by the high lonesome tune of a hermit thrush.

Ten yards to cover -- and the green rosettes of the water lettuce were so thick that for a vivid moment he thought he was tangled and would go under. The panic came at him like a female bobcat guarding her young. It clawed his nerve ends into dripping mush. He opened his mouth to shout as his legs, twisted and captured, sank down--and touched the silty bottom. He was standing on his feet, armpit-high in the water. His glands discharged relief juice through his body, and for half a minute he just stood there with the nervous giggles.

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