Glad to see you, but you are wasting your time. No such person could be here without my knowing it. Thanks for article.
That was as near an untruth as Banneker cared to go. In his own mind he defended it on the ground that the projected visit would, in fact, be time wasted for the journalist since he, Banneker, intended fully that Gardner should not see Io. Deep would have been his disgust and self-derision could he have observed the effect of the message upon the cynical and informed journalist who, however, did not receive it until the second day after its transmission, as he had been away on another assignment.
“The poor fish!” was Gardner’s comment. “He doesn’t even say that she isn’t there. He’s got to lie better than that if he goes into the newspaper game.”
Further, the reporter had received a note from the cowman whom Ban and Io had encountered in the woods, modestly requesting five dollars in return for the warranted fact that a “swell young lady” had been seen in Banneker’s company. Other journalistic matters were pressing, however; he concluded that the “Manzanita Mystery,” as he built it up headline-wise in his ready mind, could wait a day or two longer.
Banneker, through the mechanical course of his office, debated the situation. Should he tell Io of the message? To do so would only add to her anxieties, probably to no good purpose, for he did not believe that she would desert Miss Van Arsdale, ill and helpless, on any selfish consideration. Fidelity was one of the virtues with which he had unconsciously garlanded Io. Then, too, Gardner might not come anyway. If he did Banneker was innocently confident of his own ability to outwit the trained reporter and prevent his finding the object of his quest. A prospective and possible ally was forecast in the weather. Warning of another rainfall impending had come over the wire. As yet there was no sign visible from his far-horizoned home, except a filmy and changeful wreath of palest cloud with which Mount Carstairs was bedecked. Banneker decided for silence.
Miss Van Arsdale was much better when he rode over in the morning, but Io looked piteously worn and tired.
“You’ve had no rest,” he accused her, away from the sick woman’s hearing.
“Rest enough of its kind, but not much sleep,” said Io.
“But you’ve got to have sleep,” he insisted. “Let me stay and look after her to-night.”
“It wouldn’t be of any use.”