. Cautiously withdrawing,
he let himself into the shack, lighted his oil stove, put on water to
boil, set out the coffee and the stand. He felt different about
breakfast-getting now. Having prepared the arrangements for his
prospective guest, he returned and leaned against the alamo, filling his
eyes with still delight of the sleeper.

Youthful, untouched, fresh though the face was, in the revealing
stillness of slumber, it suggested rather than embodied something
indefinably ancient, a look as of far and dim inheritances, subtle,
ironic, comprehending, and aloof; as if that delicate and strong beauty
of hers derived intimately from the wellsprings of the race; as if
womanhood, eternal triumphant, and elusive were visibly patterned there.

Banneker, leaning against the slender tree-trunk, dreamed over her,
happily and aimlessly.

Io opened her eyes to meet his. She stirred softly and smiled at him.

"So you discovered me," she said.

"How long have you been here?"

She studied the sun a moment before replying. "Several hours."

"Did you walk over in the night?"

"No. You told me not to, you know. I waited till the dawn. Don't scold
me, Ban. I was dead for want of sleep and I couldn't get it in the
lodge. It's haunted, I tell you, with unpeaceful spirits. So I
remembered this hammock."

"I'm not going to scold you. I'm going to feed you. The coffee's on."

"How good!" she cried, getting to her feet. "Am I a sight? I feel
frowsy."

"There's a couple of buckets of water up in my room. Help yourself while
I set out the breakfast."

In fifteen minutes she was down, freshened and joyous.

"I'll just take a bite and then run back to my patient," she said. "You
can bring the blanket when you come. It's heavy for a three-mile
tramp.... What are you looking thoughtful and sober about, Ban? Do you
disapprove of my escapade?"

"That's a foolish question."

"It's meant to be. And it's meant to make you smile. Why don't you? You
_are_ worried. 'Fess up. What's happened?"

"I've had a letter from the reporter in Angelica City."

"Oh! Did he send your article?"

"He did. But that isn't the point. He says he's coming up here again."

"What for?"

"You."

"Does he know I'm here? Did he mention my name?"

"No. But he's had some information that probably points to you."

"What did you answer?"

Ban told her. "I think that will hold him off," he said hopefully.

"Then he's a very queer sort of reporter," ret