SON OF THE WIND
with her, so Rader, solitary at the breakfast table, informed him. He had to wait. He inquired of the scholar what time the stage went down to Beckwith. Rader thought that it was at nine-thirty. He said no more, but once, even twice, Carron found him, with his attention lifted from his book, looking at him with a pondering eye. It took a deal to get the scholar's attention at this hour! The young man was apprehensive. He did not want to be questioned now. He didn't want to be questioned any more at all. That was not the way he intended the thing to go. He made haste to write out a message very plainly to Esmeralda Charley, so that the large words stood clear as print.
"Pay another week's storage on the stuff. Tell the people I will look out for it after that. Go home on the afternoon train.
Carron."
With this in his hand he presently made the descent of the hill at a good sprinter's pace, only in time to see the stage lumbering down the road, toward Beckwith, and sending up dust above the tree-tops. All Carron's attempts to attract the driver's attention were useless, for the rattle of the
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