"Chrr-rr-rrum!" burbled the owl, and flew away.
"I'm dizzy," said Io. "I wonder if the owl is an omen and whether the
other inhabitants of this desert are like him; however much you turn
their heads, they won't fall for you. Charms and counter-charms!... Be a
good child, Io," she admonished herself. "Haven't you got yourself into
enough trouble with your deviltries? I can't help it," she defended
herself. "When I see a new and interesting specimen, I've just _got_ to
investigate its nature and habits. It's an inherited scientific spirit,
I suppose. And he is new, and awfully interesting--even if he is only a
station-agent." Wherefrom it will be perceived that her thoughts had
veered from the cactus owl, to another perplexing local phenomenon.
The glaring line of the railroad right-of-way rose before her feet, a
discordant note of rigidity and order in the confused prodigality of
desert growth. Io turned away from it, but followed its line until she
reached the station. No sign of life greeted her. The door was locked,
and the portable house unresponsive to her knocking. Presently, however,
she heard the steady click of the telegraph instrument and, looking
through the half-open office window, saw Banneker absorbed in his work.
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