Frederick Niven,
The Queer Place
(1915)
“ Behind him, and below, lay the meadow—Midway Meadow—with its black marks of old fires, its torn river bed, its moldering shacks, and Flannigan's. The horses' hoofs fell muffled, the wheels rolled silently in the foot of dust that was the road. The only noise of his progress was the squeak of cargo rubbing, box against box, and an occasional clink of chains when the whiffle swung. "Queer about that checkerboard!" It suddenly struck him that there was, perhaps, a game a man could play by himself on a checkerboard. ”
