He knew that since Argyl's
father had left for Denver Mrs. Ridley, the wife of the proprietor of
the lunch-stand, had been staying with her. It was Mrs. Ridley who
answered his knock.
"Miss Argyl ain't come back yet, Mr. Conniston," she told him. "She
went out this mornin' an' ain't showed up since. I reckon, though,
she'll be back real soon now. It's after supper-time already."
"Do you know where she went?"
"No, sir. She didn't say. Won't you come in an' wait for her?"
"No," he answered, after a moment. "I'd better not. If Miss Crawford
has been all day in the saddle she will be tired. I'll drop in in the
morning."
"Maybe that would be better," Mrs. Ridley nodded at him. "We're up
early--breakfast at five. You might run in an' eat with us?"
Conniston promised to do so, and returned to the office, more than a
little disappointed at not having seen Argyl, wondering whither her
long ride could have taken her. Until late that night he and Garton
talked, planned, and prepared for the work of to-morrow. It was barely
five the next morning when he again knocked at the cottage door. Again
Mrs. Ridley answered his knock.
"Am I too early?" Conniston smiled at her. "I noticed your smoke
going. Is Miss Crawford up yet?"
"Miss Crawford--" He saw that she hesitated, saw a nervous uneasiness
in her manner as she plucked with quick fingers at the hem of her
apron.
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