Enroute to town the girls busied themselves with the telegram they intended to dispatch to the man in Washington. Anne had found his address on an old envelope in her father’s files. It was not easy to explain what they wanted to know in a few words without sounding utterly ridiculous. After several trials, the message finally suited them. Arriving at Luxlow, they sent it off and purchased supplies which Mrs. Brady had requested. The last item on the list she had given Madge, read: “magazines for Bill.”
“He always wants the cheapest kind,” she told Anne. “I have a notion to take him a few high-brow ones for a change.”
“He’ll never forgive you if you do.”
They sought a street stand which displayed magazines of all type. With considerable embarrassment they selected a half dozen of the melodramatic sort and Madge actually blushed as she paid the salesgirl.
“The next time, Bill buys his own trash or he goes without!” she fumed. “Did you see the pitying look that girl gave us? She thought we wanted them for ourselves.”
They walked slowly down the street, Madge carrying the magazines so that the jackets would not be noticed by the passersby. They were within sight of the ranger’s parked automobile when Anne heard her name called. She turned and saw Jake Curtis.
It was too late to retreat. They could only wait and face the music.
“I went out to Stewart Island last week to see you, Miss Fairaday,” the man began in an unpleasant tone. “You were gone.”
“I must have been at the Brady lodge,” Anne replied uneasily. “Or perhaps it was the day we went fishing. If I had known you were coming—”
“You’d have been away just the same!” the man finished harshly. “Well, I warn you it will do you no good to try to avoid me. I mean business. The mortgage must be paid by the first.”