By the way, can you
swim?"
"For hours at a time."
Camilla Van Arsdale entered the room. "Are you taking her away, Ban?
Where?"
"To Miradero, on the Southwestern and Sierra."
"But that's insanity," protested the other. "Sixty miles, isn't it? And
over trailless desert."
"All of that. But we're not going across country. We're going by water."
"By water? Ban, you _are_ out of your mind. Where is there any
waterway?"
"Dry Bed Arroyo. It's running bank-full. My boat is waiting there."
"But it will be dangerous. Terribly dangerous. Io, you mustn't."
"I'll go," said the girl quietly, "if Ban says so."
"There's no other way out. And it isn't so dangerous if you're used to a
boat. Old Streatham made it seven years ago in the big flood. Did it in
a bark canoe on a hundred-dollar bet. The Arroyo takes you out to the
Little Bowleg and that empties into the Rio Solano, and there you are!
I've got his map."
"Map?" cried Miss Van Arsdale. "What use is a map when you can't see
your hand before your face?"
"Give this wind a chance," answered Banneker. "Within two hours the
clouds will have broken and we'll have moonlight to go by.... The
Angelica Herald man is over at the hotel now," he added.
"May I take a suitcase?" asked Io.
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