"I had not considered that, Miss Mallory, though I've a great respect for all that you think important…. I still intend to see Jim Framtree—and before the end of 'the four days' spoken of night before last. The fact is, I have nothing else to do. Celestino Rey may mean to start his rebellion then, so there is only to-morrow and next day. It would be next to impossible for me to meet this man with hostilities begun."
She was quite astonished at this stir of action.
"Can't you tell me anything more?" Her appeal was penetrating.
"Only that I've got to see him. It's not to do him harm," he said. "The story isn't altogether mine…. I can't help laughing at this move of Señor Rey's—and yet——"
"It hurts, doesn't it?" she urged.
"Not exactly that, but it makes me all the more determined to get to
Framtree."
"I'm glad if it does hurt," she said hastily. "You look like death, but the apathy is gone. Even red rage is better than that. I think you are better. It was about your illness—that I wanted you to tell me…. Good-by."
"I hope," Bedient said suddenly, "that Rey isn't afraid of you—that you are clear from the impulse that made him send me downtown."
"I've been careful…. I'll help, if I can. Good-by…. Aren't 'good-bys' hideous?… But we can't be too careful…. At Treasure Island Inn?"
"Yes, and where—you couldn't call!"