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Armstrong, Margaret (ed.) / The Wisconsin magazine
Volume XI, Number 6 (March 1914)

Ketcham, Iva N.
When the Valkyrie came,   pp. [unnumbered]-seven

                            Iva N. Ketcham
This Story Won Second Place in the Vilas Prize Story Contest
        HIEN the wind roared in the great
  W~i asp ues that climbed up the slopes
          of the foothills, Ole Skaarson
          took his pipe from between his
lips and smiled. His wide blue eyes travel-
led from the blazing coals in the chimney
corner to a jagged crack in the rough
plastered wall. The blasts shook the small
hut until it trembled ominously, but Ole
merely watched the checkered firelight
dance fitfully over the uneven floor, and
creep a little way up the wall. The shadows
quivered across the seamed rent in the plas-
ter, now light, now gray, as the flame leap-
ed up for a moment and then hid itself in
the ashes.  There were times when he
pressed the toe of his thick boot against a
worn knot in the pine floor and kept up a
kind of rhythmic beating to the coming
and going of the shadows. Then, the wind
would roar so loudly that the tin plates
and cups in the cupboard, which was a
wooden soap box nailed upon the wall,
would clatter against one another with a
discordant jangling sound.  But Ole did
not move; he sat quite still with his eyes
fastened upon the heavy door, as though
he were waiting-very patiently, very
quietly. When it did not open, the smile
glimmered again about the corners of his
mouth, and he listened intently to the blasts
that cried to him like a Voice from the out-
  "You made that crack in the wall the

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