JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD CHAPTER I DAY DREAMS "Come out of your day dream, Janie, and guess what I have for you." Hands behind him, Henry Allen stood looking amusedly down at his daughter. Stretched full length in a gaily striped hammock swung between two great trees, her gray eyes dreamily turned toward the distant mountain peaks, Jane Allen had not heard her father's noiseless approach over the closely clipped green lawn. At sound of his voice, she bobbed up from the hammock with an alacrity that left it swaying wildly. "Of course I was dreaming, Dad," she declared gaily, making an ineffectual grab at the hands he held behind him. "No fair using force," he warned, dexterously eluding her. "This is a guessing contest. Now which hand will you choose?" "Both hands, you mean thing!" laughed Jane. "I know what you have in one of them. It's a letter. Maybe two. Now stand and deliver." "Here you are." Obligingly obeying the imperative command, Mr. Allen handed Jane two letters. "Oh, joy! Here _you_ are!" Jane enveloped her father in a bear-like hug, planting a resounding kiss on his sun-burnt cheek. "Having played postman, I suppose my next duty is to take myself off and leave my girl to her letters," was his affectionately smiling comment. "Not a bit of it, Dad. I'm dying to read these letters. They're from Judith Stearns and Adrienne Dupree. But even they must wait a little. I want to talk to _you_, my ownest Dad. Come and sit beside me on that bench." Slipping her arm within her father's, Jane gently towed him to a quaint rustic seat under a magnificent, wide-spreading oak.