"I
observed the pennant on the wind-shield, and I thought--"
Bryce Cardigan turned and lifted his hat.
"Quite naturally, you thought it was the Sequoia stage," he said to
her. He turned a smoldering glance upon George Sea Otter. "George,"
he declared ominously, but with a sly wink that drew the sting from
his words, "if you're anxious to hold down your job the next time a
lady speaks to you and asks you a simple question, you answer yes or
no and refrain from sarcastic remarks. Don't let your enthusiasm for
this car run away with you." He faced the girl again. "Was it your
intention to go out to Sequoia on the next trip of the stage?"
She nodded.
"That means you will have to wait here three days until the stage
returns from Sequoia," Bryce replied.
"I realized, of course, that we would arrive here too late to connect
with the stage if it maintained the customary schedule for its
departure," she explained, "but it didn't occur to me that the stage-
driver wouldn't wait until our train arrived. I had an idea his
schedule was rather elastic."
"Stage-drivers have no imagination, to speak of," Bryce assured her.
To himself he remarked: "She's used to having people wait on her."
A shade of annoyance passed over the classic features of the Highest
Living Authority.
Pages:
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60