Bromley grinned again.
"Meaning that this cow-boy cattle-thief tangle in the lower valley has made you persona non grata at Castle 'Cadia? You're off; 'way off. You don't know Colonel Adam. So far from holding malice, he has been down here twice to thank you for stopping the Carson raid. And that reminds me: there's a Castle 'Cadia note in your mail-box—came down by the hands of one of the little Japs this afternoon." And he went in to get it.
It proved to be another dinner bidding for the chief engineer, to be accepted informally whenever he had time to spare. It was written and signed by the daughter, but she said that she spoke both for her father and herself when she urged him to come soon.
"You'll go?" queried Bromley, when Ballard had passed the faintly perfumed bit of note-paper across the arm's-reach between the two lazy-chairs.
"You know I'll go," was the half morose answer.
Bromley's smile was perfunctory.
"Of course you will," he assented. "To-night?"
"As well one time as another. Won't you go along?"
"Miss Elsa's invitation does not include me," was the gentle reminder.
"Bosh! You've had the open door, first, last, and all the time, haven't you?"