isdale. I am going on
to Hesperides Vale. But please leave me at any quiet hotel. I can't thank
you enough for all your kindness and patience," she went on hurriedly.
"For making this trip possible. All I can hope to do is share the
expense." And she found the inside pocket of her coat and drew out a small
silver purse.
Tisdale, driving slowly, divided his attention between his team and the
buildings on either side. "There is a public garage," he said, "and a
rival establishment opposite. You will have no trouble to finish your trip
by automobile, as you planned. It will be pleasant making the run up the
valley this evening, when it is cool."
Miss Armitage opened her purse. "The rates must be considerably higher on
a rough mountain road than on the Seattle boulevard, and, of course, one
couldn't expect to hire Nip and Tuck at ordinary rates."
Tisdale drew in, hesitating, before a hotel, then relaxed the reins. "The
building seems modern, but we may find a quiet little inn up some side
street with more shade."
"I presume you will drive on up the valley," she said, after a moment,
"and start back to Kittitas to-morrow. Or will it be necessary to rest the
team a day?"
"I shall drive on to that tract of Weatherbee's this afternoon; but I
expect to take the westbound train to-night, somewhere up the valley."
"I see," she said quickly and tried to cover her dismay, "you intend to
ship the team back to Kittitas by way of Seattle. I'm afraid"--her voice
broke a little, the color flushed pinkly to her forehead, her ears, and
her glance fell to the purse in her lap--"but please tell me the charges."
"Madam," and the ready humor crinkled the corners of his mouth, "when I
ship these horses back to Lighter, he is going to pay the freight."
She drew a quick breath of relief, but her purse remained open, and she
waited, regarding Tisdale with an expectant, disconcerting side-glance of
her half-veiled eyes. "And the day rates for the use of the team?" she
asked.
For a moment he was busy turning the horses. They had reached a second
hotel, but it proved less inviting than the first, and the side streets
they had crossed afforded no quiet inn, or indeed any dwelling in the
shade. "After all," he said, "a room and bath on the north side, with
windows looking up the Columbia, should make you fairly comfortable
through the heat of the day." But the girl waited, and when his eyes fell
to that open purse, his own color burn
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