Within
two hours the veteran had come to her.
"I have been wanting to see you," he said at once.
"About Mr. Banneker?" she queried eagerly.
"No. About The Searchlight."
"The Searchlight? I don't understand, Mr. Edmonds."
"Can't we be open with each other, Mrs. Eyre?"
"Absolutely, so far as I am concerned."
"Then I want to tell you that you need have no fear as to what The
Searchlight may do."
"Still I don't understand. Why should I fear it?"
"The scandal--manufactured, of course--which The Searchlight had cooked
up about you and Mr. Banneker before Mr. Eyre's death."
"Surely there was never anything published. I should have heard of it."
"No; there wasn't. Banneker stopped it."
"Ban?"
"Do you mean to say that you knew nothing of this, Mrs. Eyre?" he said,
the wonder in his face answering the bewilderment in hers. "Didn't
Banneker tell you?"
"Never a word."
"No; I suppose he wouldn't," ruminated the veteran. "That would be like
Ban--the old Ban," he added sadly. "Mrs. Eyre, I loved that boy," he
broke out, his stern and somber face working. "There are times even now
when I can scarcely make myself believe that he did what he did."
"Wait," pleaded Io. "How did he stop The Searchlight?"
"By threatening Bussey with an expose that would have blown him out of
the water.
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