followed the prescribed instructions. The result had certainly been
simple and inexpensive; presumably it would have proven tasty. He
regretted and resented the rape of the pie. What aroused greater
concern, however, was the presence of thieves. In the soft ground near
the window he found some rather small footprints which suggested that it
was the younger of the two hoboes who had committed the depredation.

Theorizing, however, was not the order of his day. Routine and
extra-routine claimed all his time. There was his supplementary report
to make out; the marooned travelers in Manzanita to be looked after and
their bitter complaints to be listened to; consultations over the wire
as to the condition and probabilities of the roadbed, for the floods had
come again; and in and out of it all, the busy, weary, indefatigable
Gardner, giving to the agent as much information as he asked from him.
When their final lists were compared, Banneker noticed that there was no
name with the initials I.O.W. on Gardner's. He thought of mentioning the
clue, but decided that it was of too little definiteness and importance.
The news value of mystery, enhanced by youth and beauty, which the
veriest cub who had ever smelled printer's ink would have appreciated,
was a sealed book to him.

Not until late that afternoon did a rescue train limp cautiously along
an improvised track to set the interrupted travelers on their way.
Gardner went on it, leaving an address and an invitation to "keep in
touch." Mr. Vanney took his departure with a few benign and well-chosen
words of farewell, accompanied by the assurance that he would "make it
his special purpose to commend," and so on. His nephew, Herbert Cressey,
the lily-clad messenger, stopped at the station to shake hands and grin
rather vacantly, and adjure Banneker, whom he addressed as "old chap,"
to be sure and look him up in the East; he'd be glad to see him any