“Big, hungry ones,” added Banneker.
He could almost feel the little rippling shudders passing across the girl’s delicate skin. “Oh, I think you’re loathly!” she cried. “Both of you.”
Tears of vexation made lucent the shadowed depths of her eyes. “I’ve never been treated so in my life!” she declared, overcome by the self-pity of a struggling soul trammeled by the world’s injustice.
“Why not be sensible and stay with me to-night while you think it all over?” suggested Miss Van Arsdale.
“Thank you,” returned the other with an unexpected and baffling change to the amenable and formal “You are very kind. I’d be delighted to.”
“Pack up your things, then, and I’ll bring an extra horse from the town. I’ll be back in an hour.”
The girl went up to Banneker’s room, and got her few belongings together. Descending she found the agent busy among his papers. He put them aside and came out to her.
“Your telegram ought to get off from Williams sometime to-morrow,” he said.
“That will be time enough,” she answered.
“Will there be any answer?”