"Key's lost," he yelled suddenly, so that the girl jumped. "Can't git in."
She nodded and smiled. The smile and her dancing eyes and the glow of her hair were a combination as dazzling as winter sunshine. She had manifestly come prepared. She pulled a little pad and pencil from her pocket and wrote rapidly.
"Can you read?"
The furious disgust in Henry's eyes was answer enough. She thought him a plumb fool then!
"Sure, I can read," he shouted. "I ain't crazy. I'm just hard of hearing."
Eager apology was in her smile. She scribbled rapidly.
"You are a brave man," Henry read. "You saved the lives of eighty-four people."
He shook his head. "I ain't brave. I'm just an old fool."
She laughed at this, and it was as if the sun leaped up with a shout and a lot of nymphs and dryads and other ladies in diaphanous veils whirled in a mad dance on a hilltop.
"I am the new operator at Elsie." ran her next missive. "I have a pass for you from the president of the road. You can ride anywhere you want any time you like."