"Hey there, Maggie," called Clyde as she approached the
front porch of the newspaper office. "I think I can feel snow
in my bones."
"Really?" she smiled. "The forecast is for a light
dusting."
He adjusted the ear flaps on his plaid wool hunting cap.
"Wouldn't be surprised if we got us several inches by
tomorrow."
"Well, that'd be welcome, wouldn't it? Say, Clyde, I'm
sure you know Arnold Westerly..."
"You bet I do. Arnold and I go way back. But I haven't
seen the old guy in a coon's age. Why're you asking?"
"I'm on my way to see him right now. I'm about to blow
open what could be a fairly big story."
Clyde rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm. "A big
story? About old Arnold? Can't imagine what that could
possibly be, Maggie girl."
She glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot,
and then quickly explained about Greg and Rick's land
scheme. "Want to join me for this interview?"
"Oh boy, would I love to! But I've got to meet an old
buddy of mine today. He came over from the valley to spend
the weekend at my cabin and do some pheasant hunting. But
you better get to the bottom of this, Maggie. Arnold's a good
guy, and I don't like the idea of anyone, and especially not 16Melody Carlson
the likes of Greg Snider, taking advantage of the old feller."
Clyde clenched his fists and growled. "And after all that anti-
development nonsense Snider put us through last summer!
Well, all I can say is you better nail this story good and we'll
blast it all across the front page in next week's edition."
She grinned. "You can count on it. Have a good weekend
hunting with your buddy, Clyde."
"Yep. But I want to hear all about Arnold first thing come
Monday morning."
"Yes, sir." She tossed him a mock salute.
"That's my girl." His face softened. "Sure good to have
you back, Maggie. You had me fretting something fierce
while you were gone off in California all that time. Feared
you might change your mind about us and not come back."
"Don't worry, Clyde. I've finally figured out where my
hQme is."
"And don't you go off and forget it none, either!"
(1I -~I'C,' A.
aggie had never been in the area where the West-
erly farm was located. But now she understood
why Greg and Rick had been so eager to get their
hands on it as she admired the lovely, pastoral piece of land
with a stream cutting through the middle. Although much
larger than her property, it was similar with its wide-open
spaces and ponderosa pine forest along the boundaries. It