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Leader Magazine
Vol.3.No.3.                    November 1962
THE FIGHTING ANGEL.
PART 2.
Painfully, Tracey got to his feet. He winced as his ankle started throbbing but as he gingerly put his weight on the foot, he found that he would be able to walk. He had only given it a wrench. He shivered involuntarily as his wet clothes clung to his body. Then, with a glance at his compass, to get some idea of his direction, he set off. If he could keep in a straight line, he would be bound to come upon some signs of habitation eventually, even if he had to walk the length of the moor to do it!
As he went along, he had to keep stopping to rest his ankle, and this also gave him time to check if he was going in the same direction. The rain had eased off a bit and the mist was lifting slowly, and dawn was breaking, as if to say that he was safe now that it had driven night away.
Tracey stopped under the shelter of a small outcrop of rock and ate some of his rations. He had been walking now for five hours. The rain had stopped, and the warmth of his body and the wind had helped to dry out his clothes a bit. Although the food gave him more energy, he was very tired from having to limp. Just up ahead lay a small ridge. After a few minutes rest, Tracey climbed to the top of the ridge, in the hope of seeing something. When he got to the top, he scanned the ground in front of him. At first glance he saw nothing, but when he looked again, an object in the distance caught his eye. His heart quickened when he saw it. Could this possibly be the house? Taking a bearing, he set his compass and started off towards the object.
At the top of the ridge the object had not seemed too far, but as he walked along he realised that it was much further than he had thought. The going was rough, and a fiercely cold wind was blowing. On top of this he did not even know what the object was.
As he breasted another ridge, he suddenly saw that it was a house, about a mile distant. By now the pain in his ankle was causing him to stumble frequently, but the sight of the house drove him on. He fell twice before he reached the house, but got up again.
When he reached the house, he saw that the front door was slightly ajar. Seeing no signs of movement and hearing no noise, Tracey became slightly apprehensive, but he pushed the door open. As he walked through, the door banged behind him, and he turned round, startled. The house was in semi-darkness and Tracey strained his eyes as they slowly became accustomed to the light. He was standing in a hall. There was no furniture, but there were two doors leading off each side of the hall.
Deciding to investigate, he opened one of the doors. It squeaked on its hinges and Tracey felt an eerie feeling creeping over him. He was now in a large room. The windows had been boarded up so that there was hardly any light in the room. In the corner he could just make out at seemed to be a table. He walked over to it. Just then, a rat scuttled across the floor. As he spun round, he banged his ankle hard on the leg of the table.
The shock of the blow and almost overwhelming exhaustion finally overcame him and he crumpled in a heap on the floor.
THE BLACK BARON
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