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There she sat, looking up at him earnestly, a dainty contrast to the den in which Garrick was working out the capture of criminals, violent and vicious. "I have the honor to be able to say, 'Yes' to all that you have asked, Miss Winslow," he replied. "Is there any way in which I can be of service to you?"
"I think not more than a few seconds, sir; only long enough to put the packet on the shelf where Mr. Payson would be sure to see it as soon as he came in, and place it in the inner safe." "Yes, I remember, I explained to you that anything placed on that particular shelf was intended to be lodged in the fireproof safe when Mr. Winslow had it open. A few seconds, you say, Richard.
In fact he was not sure that he could refuse, not sure that he could invent a believable excuse for doing so. Another person would not have sought excuses, would have declared simply that the property was not for rent, but Jed Winslow was not that other person; he was himself, and ordinary methods of procedure were not his. Two or three groups of customers came in, purchased and departed.
If there were any secret about it, it was perhaps fortunate that I did not know. I don't think I am more than ordinarily susceptible and I know I did not delude myself that Miss Winslow ever could be anything except a friend to either Garrick or myself. But I felt I could not resist the appeal in those eyes.
Say say, Jed Winslow, you come along home to dinner with me. I bet you've forgot to eat anything for the last day or so been inventin' some new kind of whirlagig or other and your empty stomach's gone to your head and made it dizzy. Boys! Gracious king! Come on home with me." Jed smiled his slow smile. "I don't mean real boys, Sam," he explained. "I mean me I'm the boys.
"Perhaps they're waiting for another kind of earthquake," Winslow had responded sententiously. In six weeks it had been forgotten, except by three people Miss Keene, James Hurlstone, and Padre Esteban. Since Hurlstone had parted with Miss Keene on that memorable afternoon he had apparently lapsed into his former reserve.
Winslow felt an unusual interest in the lad from the moment he met him, for Bobby had an open, frank countenance and a pleasing manner. But they would not permit him to talk or tell them much of his story until they had him on shipboard, and Bobby had eaten and bathed and changed his ill-smelling skin clothing for a suit that Edward Norman pressed upon him.
Fifty miles of forest lay between Sowams and Plymouth, but a swift runner was dispatched at once with the missive, and the promise of a rich reward if he hastened his return; then Winslow turned to his fellow-statesman who stood looking on with an amused smile. "Master Hampden, know you how to make broth?" demanded he. "I have no teaching but mother wit," replied Hampden.
Goodwyn, who it happened had a couple of little kids at home himself. Mr. Winslow seemed to be worried as he strode along at the side of the messenger. "I really hope there's nothing in this affair, Dick," he said, kindly. "Make your mind easy on that, sir; there isn't an atom of truth about it. I know nothing about the package or what it contained, any more than you do.
To this proposition Winslow returned a most decided negative, adding that among his people no soldier relinquished his weapons except with his life, which chivalrous boast Squanto after a moment's consideration translated,
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