“Good-evening,” he said. “Excuse me. There was to be a wagon sent here.”
“For the telegraph-mender? Yes, sir. It came Tuesday. You're to find the pole-wagon at Drybone.”
This news was good, and all that he wished to know. He could drive out and escape a night at the Hotel Brunswick. But he lingered, because Jessamine spoke so pleasantly to him. He had heard of her also.
“Governor Barker has not been around here?” he said.
“Not yet, sir. We understand he is expected through on a hunting-trip.”
“I suppose there is room for two and a trunk on that wagon?”
“I reckon so, sir.” Jessamine glanced at the man, and he took himself out. Most men took themselves out if Jessamine so willed; and it was mostly achieved thus, in amity.
On the platform the man found his wife again.
“Then I needn't to walk to Tommy's,” she said. “And we'll eat as we travel. But you'll wait till I'm through with her.” She made a gesture toward the station.
“Why—why—what do you want with her. Don't you know who she is?”