“However,” his thought continued, as he proceeded with his cigarette, “lately the thing’s been getting a whole raft of little attentions. Last night I heard a fellow fall off of it; this morning it attracted Ashton-Kirk greatly. The German, so it seems, likes little walks along and little observations of it from the wall. And, last, the golden one is at great pains to put me up in the facts as she sees them. ‘The river bank,’ says she, as plain as day. ‘Take a good, long, sweeping look at the river bank. And, once seen, do not forget.’”
“I suppose, though,” said the girl, “to one who has, like you, Mr. Scanlon, spent a great deal of his life in the wild places, a tame little river like this has no charm.”
Bat lit the cigarette and smoked peacefully.
“As you say, the river is tame,” said he. “It has a way of slipping by without forcing your notice; and in these days a river, like anything else, if it wants attention, must speak out good and loud. But though I never have been keen on bashful rivers, still river banks, of any denomination whatsoever, have always been a strong point with me.”
The girl’s eyes as she gazed at him were half smiling, half wondering. She said:
“One can never be altogether sure of what you mean.”
Bat nodded, sorrowfully
“Too bad, isn’t it?” remarked he. “When a fellow’s exposed to a thing like that, he’s sure to catch it.”
Here there was the sound of wheels without; a bell, evidently in the kitchen, rang loudly. Miss Knowles and Scanlon were still in the courtyard when Mrs. Kretz made her appearance in answer. While the woman was opening the gate the girl said:
“Your friend, Mr. Ashton-Kirk, did not arrive last night, after all?”