urned Io scornfully out of
her wider experience. "No; he'll come. And if he's any good, he'll find
me."

"You can refuse to see him."

"Yes; but it's the mere fact of my being here that will probably give
him enough to go on and build up a loathsome article. How I hate
newspapers!... Ban," she appealed wistfully, "can't you stop him from
coming? Must I go?"

"You must be ready to go."

"Not until Miss Camilla is well again," she declared obstinately. "But
that will be in a day or two. Oh, well! What does it all matter! I've
not much to pack up, anyway. How are you going to get me out?"

"That depends on whether Gardner comes, and how he comes."

He pointed to a darkening line above the southwestern horizon. "If that
is what it looks like, we may be in for another flood, though I've never
known two bad ones in a season."

Io beckoned quaintly to the far clouds. "Hurry! Hurry!" she summoned.
"You wrecked me once. Now save me from the Vandal. Good-bye, Ban. And
thank you for the lodging and the breakfast."

Emergency demands held the agent at his station all that day and
evening. Trainmen brought news of heavy rains beyond the mountains. In
the morning he awoke to find his little world hushed in a murky light
and with a tingling apprehension of suspense in the atmosphere. High,
gray cloud shapes hurried across the zenith to a conference of the storm
powers, gathering at the horizon. Weather-wise from long observation,
Banneker guessed that the outbreak would come before evening, and that,
unless the sullen threat of the sky was deceptive, Manzanita would be
shut off from rail communication within twelve hours thereafter. Having
two hours' release at noon, he rode over to the lodge in the forest to
return Io's blanket. He found the girl pensive, and Miss Van Arsdale
apparently recovered to the status of her own normal and vigorous self.

"I've been telling Io," said the older woman, "that, since the rumor is
out of her being here, she will almost certainly be found by the
reporter. Too many people in the village know that I have a guest."

"How?" asked Banneker.

"From my marketing. Probably from Pedro."

"Very likely from the patron of the Sick Coyote that you and I met on
our walk," added the girl.

"So the wise thing is for her to go," concluded Miss Van Arsdale.
"Unless she is willing to risk the publicity."

"Yes," assented Io. "The wise thing is for me to go." She spoke in a
curious tone, not looking