"
"Stay longer. It wouldn't take any time at all. There's no mystery to
solve." He spoke with an air of such perfect candor as compelled her
belief in his sincerity.
"Perhaps you'll solve it for me. Here's Miss Van Arsdale. Good-bye, and
thank you. You'll come and see me? Or shall I come and see you?"
"Both," smiled Banneker. "That's fairest."
The pair rode away leaving the station feeling empty and unsustained. At
least Banneker credited it with that feeling. He tried to get back to
work, but found his routine dispiriting. He walked out into the desert,
musing and aimless.
Silence fell between the two women as they rode. Once Miss Welland
stopped to adjust her traveling-bag which had shifted a little in the
straps.
"Is riding cross-saddle uncomfortable for you?" asked Miss Van Arsdale.
"Not in the least. I often do it at home."
Suddenly her mount, a thick-set, soft-going pony shied, almost unseating
her. A gun had banged close by. Immediately there was a second report.
Miss Van Arsdale dismounted, replacing a short-barreled shot-gun in its
saddle-holster, stepped from the trail, and presently returned carrying
a brace of plump, slate-gray birds.
"Wild dove," she said, stroking them. "You'll find them a welcome
addition to a meager bill of fare.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80