The Mohawk Cabin (Chapter 1)
Their lives crossed paths by unlikely accident in a time few now remember.The wood-spoked wheels of the old Crow-Elkhart began sinking in the soft mud along the shoulder of Route 9W almost as soon as I stopped the car. I had just pulled off the macadam in a panic, at the sharp command of my father. Aunt Alma protested that she was alright, but she was looking rather pale, from what little I could see of her. A towering stack of luggage, all her worldly possessions, filled most of the back-seat,...