The man pointed to a grimy register on the office desk, and Roderick set down the fishing bag and wrote in a cramped, scrawly hand, "Kate Peters, Milton, Ky." The man looked at it through his screen of hair and beard, said, "Come on, ma'am." "Just a minute," said Roderick, and he drew "Kate" aside and said to her in a low tone: "I'll be back sometime tomorrow, and then we'll start at once.

But--to provide against everything--don't be alarmed if I don't come.

You'll know I couldn't help it.

And wait." Susan nodded, looking at him with trustful, grateful eyes.
"And," he went on hurriedly, "I'll leave this with you, to take care of.

It's yours as much as mine." She saw that it was a pocketbook, instinctively put her hands behind her.
"Don't be silly," he said, with good-humored impatience.