In the darkness George Willard walked along the alleyway, going carefully and cautiously. The back doors of the Winesburg stores were open and he could see men sitting about under the store lamps. In Myerbaum’s Notion Store Mrs. Willy the saloon keeper’s wife stood by the counter with a basket on her arm. Sid Green the clerk was waiting on her. He leaned over the counter and talked earnestly. George Willard crouched and then jumped through the path of light that came out at the door. He began to run forward in the darkness. Behind Ed Griffith’s saloon old Jerry Bird the town drunkard lay asleep on the ground. The runner stumbled over the sprawling legs. He laughed brokenly. George Willard had set forth upon an adventure. All day he had been trying to make up his mind to go through with the adventure and now he was acting. In the office of the _Winesburg Eagle_ he had been sitting since six o’clock trying to think. There had been no decision. He had just jumped to his feet, hurried past Will Henderson who was reading proof in the printshop and started to run along the alleyway. Through street after street went George Willard, avoiding the people who passed. He crossed and recrossed the road. When he passed a street lamp he pulled his hat down over his face. He did not dare think. In his mind there was a fear but it was a new kind of fear. He was afraid the adventure on which he had set out would be spoiled, that he would lose courage and turn back. George Willard found Louise Trunnion in the kitchen of her father’s house. She was washing dishes by the light of a kerosene lamp. There she stood behind the screen door in the little shedlike kitchen at the back of the house. George Willard stopped by a picket fence and tried to control the shaking of his body. Only a narrow potato patch separated him from the adventure. Five minutes passed before he felt sure enough of himself to call to her. “Louise! Oh, Louise!” he called. The cry stuck in his throat. His voice became a hoarse whisper. Louise Trunnion came out across the potato patch holding the dish cloth in her hand. “How do you know I want to go out with you,” she said sulkily. “What makes you so sure?” George Willard did not answer. In silence the two stood in the darkness with the fence between them. “You go on along,” she said. “Pa’s in there. I’ll come along. You wait by Williams’ barn.” The young newspaper reporter had received a letter from Louise Trunnion. It had come that morning to the office of the _Winesburg Eagle_. The letter was brief. “I’m yours if you want me,” it said. He thought it annoying that in the darkness by the fence she had pretended there was nothing between them. “She has a nerve! Well, gracious sakes, she has a nerve,” he muttered as he went along the street and passed a row of vacant lots where corn grew. The corn was shoulder high and had been planted right down to the sidewalk.