"Suppose she should come and find me here?" "It's what I've been wishing." "Is it! Well, it isn't what I wish at all." "In fact," continued the imperturbable Banneker, "I rather planned to ride over to her place this afternoon." "Why, if you please?" "To tell her about you and ask her advice." Io's face darkened rebelliously. "Do you think it necessary to tattle to a woman who is a total stranger to me?" "I think it would be wise to get her view," he replied, unmoved. "Well, I think it would be horrid. I think if you do any such thing, you are--Mr. Banneker! You're not listening to me." "Some one is coming through the woods trail," said he. "Perhaps it's your local friend." "That's my guess." "Please understand this, Mr. Banneker," she said with an obstinate outthrust of her little chin. "I don't know who your friend is and I don't care. If you make it necessary, I can go to the hotel in town; but while I stay here I won't have my affairs or even my presence discussed with any one else." "You're too late," said Banneker. Out from a hardly discernible opening in the brush shouldered a big roan. Tossing up his head, he stretched out in the long, easy lope of the desert-bred, his rider sitting him loosely and with slack bridle. "That's Miss Van Arsdale," said Banneker. CHAPTER VI Seated in her saddle the newcomer hailed Banneker. "What news, Ban? Is the wreck cleared up?" "Yes. But the track is out twenty miles east. Every arroyo and barranca is bank-high and over." He had crossed the platform to her. Now she raised her deep-set, quiet eyes and rested them on the girl. That the station should harbor a visitor at that hour was not surprising. But the beauty of the stranger caught Miss Van Arsdale's regard, and her bearing held it. "A passenger, Ban?" she asked, lowering her voice. "Yes, Miss Camilla." "Left over from the wreck?" He nodded. "You came in the nick of time. I don't quite know what to do with her." "Why didn't she go on the relief train?" "She didn't show up until last night." "Where did she stay the night?" "Here." "In your office?" "In my room. I worked in the office." "You should have brought her to me." "She was hurt. Queer in the head. I'm not sure that she isn't so yet." Miss Van Arsdale swung her tall form easily out of the saddle. The girl came forward at once, not waiting for Banneker's introduction, with a formal gravity. "How do you do? I am Irene Welland." The older woman took the extended hand. There was courtesy rather than kindliness in her voice as she asked, "Are you much hurt?" "I'm quite over it, thank you. All but the bandage. Mr. Banneker was just speaking of you when you rode up, Miss Van Arsdale." The other smiled wanly. "It is a little startling to hear one's name like that, in a voice from another world. When do you go on?" "Ah, that's a point under discussion. Mr. Banneker would, I believe, summon a special train if he could, in his anxiety to get rid of me."