The bed had been slept in. She saw that at a glance. His clothes were not there. Down—in—the—field—because—she'd—forgotten—to—wake—him—.
In a sudden stunning flash she remembered the crash she had heard.
It took her a long while to get to the little closet behind the bed. Before she opened it she knew it would be empty.
The door creaked open.
His one hat and coat were gone.
She had known that.
He had seen those two reaching arms! He had seen those two hands that had slowly, very slowly, beckoned!
She went to the window.
Her eyes staring straight before her, down the slope in front of the house, caught sight of something blue and antiquatedly military standing waist deep and rigid in the corn field.
"You ole scarecrow—!" She whimpered. "Why're you standing there?" She sobbed. "What're you standing still for—now?"