"Our quaint young station-agent seems to have abandoned his
responsibilities so far as I'm concerned," she observed.
"Because he hasn't come to see you?"
"Yes. He said he would."
"I told him not to."
"I see," said Io, after thinking it over. "Is he a little--just a wee,
little bit queer in his head?"
"He's one of the sanest persons I've ever known. And I want him to stay
so."
"I see again," stated the girl.
"So you thought him a bit unbalanced? That _is_ amusing." That the
hostess meant the adjective in good faith was proved by her quiet
laughter.
Io regarded her speculatively and with suspicion. "He asked the same
about me, I suppose." Such was her interpretation of the laugh.
"But he gave you credit for being only temporarily deranged."
"Either he or I ought to be up for examination by a medical board,"
stated the girl poutingly. "One of us must be crazy. The night that I
stole his molasses pie--it was pretty awful pie, but I was starved--I
stumbled over something in the darkness and fell into it with an awful
clatter. What do you suppose it was?"
"I think I could guess," smiled the other.
"Not unless you knew. Personally I couldn't believe it. It felt like a
boat, and it rocked like a boat, and there were the seats and the oars.
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