"How do you know that? And how much more do you know?"

"No more. A man on the train reported your initials from your baggage."

"I'll feel ever so much better when I have that bag. Is there a hotel
near here?"

"A sort of one at Manzanita. It isn't very clean. But there'll be a
train through to-night and I'll get you space on that. I'd better get a
doctor for you first, hadn't I?"

"No, indeed! All I need is some fresh things."

Banneker set off at a brisk pace. He found the extravagant little
traveling-case safely closed and locked, and delivered it outside his
own door which was also closed and, he suspected, locked.

"I'm thinking," said the soft voice of the girl within. "Don't let me
interrupt your work."

Beneath, at his routine, Banneker also set himself to think; confused,
bewildered, impossibly conjectural thoughts not unmingled with
semi-official anxiety. Harboring a woman on company property, even
though she were, in some sense, a charge of the company, might be open
to misconceptions. He wished that the mysterious Io would declare
herself.

At noon she did. She declared herself ready for luncheon. There was
about her a matter-of-fact acceptance of the situation as natural, even