The girl flushed a little, but her eyes met the question without wavering.  “Quite alone.”

“To the coast?”

“To join friends there.”

“If they can patch up the washed-out track,” put in Banneker, “Number Seven ought to get through to-night.”

“And Mr. Banneker in his official capacity was almost ready to put me aboard by force, when I succeeded in gaining a reprieve.  Now he calls you to his rescue.”

“What do you want to do?” inquired Miss Van Arsdale with lifted brows.

“Stay here for a few days, in that funny little house.”  She indicated the portable shack.

“That is Mr. Banneker’s own place.”

“I understand perfectly.”

“I don’t think it would do, Miss Welland.  It is Miss Welland, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed.  Why wouldn’t it do, Miss Van Arsdale?”

“Ask yourself.”

“I am quite capable of taking care of myself,” returned the girl calmly.  “As for Mr. Banneker, I assume that he is equally competent.  And,” she added with a smiling effrontery, “he’s quite as much compromised already as he could possibly be by my staying.”

Banneker flushed angrily.  “There’s no question of my being compromised,” he began shortly.

“You’re wrong, Ban; there is,” Miss Van Arsdale’s quiet voice cut him short again.  “And still more of Miss Welland’s.  What sort of escapade this may be,” she added, turning to the girl, “I have no idea.  But you cannot stay here alone.”

“Can’t I?” retorted the other mutinously.  “I think that rests with Mr. Banneker to say.  Will you turn me out, Mr. Banneker?  After our agreement?”

“No,” said Banneker.

“You can hardly kidnap me, even with all the conventionalities on your side,” Miss Welland pointed out to Miss Van Arsdale.

That lady made no answer to the taunt.  She was looking at the station-agent with a humorously expectant regard.  He did not disappoint her.

“If I get an extra cot for the shack, Miss Van Arsdale,” he asked, “could you get your things and come over here to stay?”

“Certainly.”

“I won’t be treated like a child!” cried the derelict in exactly the tone of one, and a very naughty one.  “I won’t!  I won’t!” She stamped.

Banneker laughed.

“You’re a coward,” said Io.

Miss Van Arsdale laughed.

“I’ll go to the hotel in the town and stay there.”

“Think twice before you do that,” advised the woman.

“Why?” asked Io, struck by the tone.

“Crawly things,” replied Miss Van Arsdale sententiously.

“Big, hungry ones,” added Banneker.

He could almost feel the little rippling shudders passing across the girl’s delicate skin.  “Oh, I think you’re loathly!” she cried.  “Both of you.”

Tears of vexation made lucent the shadowed depths of her eyes.  “I’ve never been treated so in my life!” she declared, overcome by the self-pity of a struggling soul trammeled by the world’s injustice.