"It's rotten!" Gardner paused. "From a news-desk point of view. Any copy-reader would chuck it. Unless I happened to sign it," he added. "Then they'd cuss it out and let it pass, and the dear old pin-head public would eat it up." "If it's of any use to you--" "Not so, my boy, not so! I might pinch your wad if you left it around loose, or even your last cigarette, but not your stuff. Let me take it along, though; it may give me some ideas. I'll return it. Now, where can I get a bed in the town?" "Nowhere. Everything's filled. But I can give you a hammock out in my shack." "That's better. I'll take it. Thanks." Banneker kept his guest awake beyond the limits of decent hospitality, asking him questions. The reporter, constantly more interested in this unexpected find of a real personality in an out-of-the-way minor station of the high desert, meditated a character study of "the hero of the wreck," but could not quite contrive any peg whereon to hang the wreath of heroism. By his own modest account, Banneker had been competent but wholly unpicturesque, though the characters in his sketch, rude and unformed though it was, stood out clearly. As to his own personal history, the agent was unresponsive. At length the guest, apologizing for untimely weariness, it being then 3.15 A.M., yawned his way to the portable shack. He slept heavily, except for a brief period when the rain let up. In the morning--which term seasoned newspaper men apply to twelve noon and the hour or two thereafter--he inquired of Banneker, "Any tramps around here?" "No," answered the agent, "Not often. There were a pair yesterday morning, but they went on." "Some one was fussing around the place about first light. I was too sleepy to get up. I yipped and they beat it. I don't think they got inside." Banneker investigated. Nothing was missing from within the shack. But outside he made a distressing discovery. His molasses pie was gone. CHAPTER IV "To accomplish a dessert as simple and inexpensive as it is tasty," prescribes The Complete Manual of Cookery, p. 48, "take one cup of thick molasses--" But why should I infringe a copyright when the culinary reader may acquire the whole range of kitchen lore by expending eighty-nine cents plus postage on 39 T 337? Banneker had faithfully followed the prescribed instructions. The result had certainly been simple and inexpensive; presumably it would have proven tasty. He regretted and resented the rape of the pie. What aroused greater concern, however, was the presence of thieves. In the soft ground near the window he found some rather small footprints which suggested that it was the younger of the two hoboes who had committed the depredation.