“I’ll wire my people. Or you can wire them for me. Can’t you?”
“Of course. But the company has a right to know what has happened to its passengers.”
“Not to me! What has the company done for me but wreck me and give me an awful bang on the head and lose my baggage and—Oh, I nearly forgot. I took my traveling-bag when I ran. It’s in the hut. I wonder if you would get it for me?”
“Of course. I’ll go now.”
“That’s good of you. And for your own self, but not your old company, I’ll tell you my name. I’m—”
“Wait a moment. Whatever you tell me I’ll have to report.”
“You can’t,” she returned imperiously. “It’s in confidence.”
“I won’t accept it so.”
“You’re a most extraordinary sta—a most extraordinary sort of man. Then I’ll give you this much for yourself, and if your company collects pet names, you can pass it on. My friends call me Io.”
“Yes. I know. You’re I.O.W.”