One
In the pale glow of her ileadlights Emily Brace caught a view of
the sign， ALPINE VILLAGE. It was a very discreet sign but its
wooden frame had a carefully rustic air.
The shades of night were falling fast， when through an Alpine
village passed--the rhyming lines repeated themselves in Emmy s
head as she approached the turn into what was euphemistically
called Alpine Village. She bore， however， no strange device， only
a strange demand.
The road wound around in an artistic， very， very rural way，
designed， she surmised， by the architect who had designed all the
houses. She had never seen the Judge s house; she had never visited
the condominiums.
It had been a demanding message that brought her here now.
He had telephoned her， getting straight through the switch-
board， naturally， reaching the cubbyhole they called her office，
although she shared it with anybody who needed space. The Judge
was not one to wait while a message was taken or other， far more
important calls were suitably answered. Probably he had thun-
dered into the ear of the girl at the switchboard， nearly breaking
her eardrum with his usual courtroom voice. But then when Emmy
herself replied， he ordered her to get out to his house at once. No
reason given， although she did have the temerity to ask why. He
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