Looking cautiously about, George Willard arose from his desk in the office of the Winesburg Eagle and went hurriedly out at the back door.  The night was warm and cloudy and although it was not yet eight o’clock, the alleyway back of the Eagle office was pitch dark.  A team of horses tied to a post somewhere in the darkness stamped on the hard-baked ground.  A cat sprang from under George Willard’s feet and ran away into the night.  The young man was nervous.  All day he had gone about his work like one dazed by a blow.  In the alleyway he trembled as though with fright.

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.”