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He made no comment, but went out and returned with the flowers. Meantime Io had made up her mind. "I've had an unpleasant surprise, Ban." "I was afraid so." She glanced up quickly. "Did you see him?" "No. Mindle, the mail transfer man, did." "Oh! Well, that was Aleck Babson. 'Babbling Babson, he's called at the clubs. He's the most inveterate gossip in New York."
I've kept the little shack I used to own; pay a local chap named Mindle to keep it in shape. So I just put in a week of quiet there." "You're a queer chap, Ban. And a loyal one." "If I weren't loyal to Camilla Van Arsdale " said Banneker, and left the implication unconcluded. "Another friend from your picturesque past is down below," said Edmonds, and named Gardner. "Lord!
"Now we can see our way," said Banneker, the practical. He studied the few rods of sleek, foamless water between him and the farther bank, and, going to the steel boat which Mindle had brought to the place on the hand car, took brief inventory of its small cargo. Satisfied, he turned to load in Io's few belongings. He shipped the oars.
They returned to the station together in the gathering darkness, got a hand car onto the track, and loaded it with a strange burden, after which Mindle disappeared into the storm with the car while Banneker wired to Stanwood an imperative call for a relief for next day even though the substitute should have to walk the twenty-odd miles.
"I'm consumed with a desire to converse with Elsie Maitland, who is dining in that very farthest corner. Back in an hour." "It's Camilla Van Arsdale," said Banneker as the girl left. "You've heard from her?" "From Mindle who looks after my shack there. He says she's very ill. I've got to go out there at once." "Oh, Ban!" "I know, dearest, and after all these endless weeks of separation.
Can I get dinner over at the village?" "Such as it is. I'll go over with you." At the entrance to the unclean little hotel they parted, Banneker going further to find Mindle the "teamer," whom he could trust and with whom he held conference, brief and very private.
He sent a telegram to Mindle, his factotum on the ground. Hold all newspapers from Miss C. until I get there, if you have to rob mails. Without packing his things, without closing his house, without resigning his editorship, he took the next train for Manzanita. Io, coming East, and still unaware of the final tragedy, passed him, halfway.
James Mindle always referred to his process of postal transfer from the station to the town as "teamin' over the mail." He was a frail, grinny man from the prairie country, much given to romantic imaginings and an inordinate admiration for Banneker.
Well, when I arrived in town, I couldn't understand why every one looked so queerly at my eyes, until Mindle, the mail-driver, told me they were exactly like the hair-trigger boy's. Cheap and easy way to get a reputation, isn't it?" "But you must have something back of it," insisted the girl. "Are you a good shot?" "Nothing fancy; there are twenty better in town."
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