"
The trade-wind was evidently making itself felt even in this
pastoral retreat, for the two gentlemen appeared to shrink slightly
within themselves, and a chill seemed to have passed over the
group. The Mayor coughed. The avuncular Woods gazed abstractedly
at a large cactus. Even Paul, prepared by previous experience,
stopped short.
"Colonel Pendleton! Oh, do tell me all about him!" flashed out
Yerba, suddenly, with clasped hands and eager girlish breath.
Paul cast a quick grateful glance at the girl. Whether assumed or
not, her enthusiastic outburst was effective. The Mayor looked
uneasily at Woods, and turned to Paul.
"Ah, yes! You and he are original co-trustees. I believe
Pendleton is in reduced circumstances. Never quite got over that
bank trouble."
"That is only a question of legislative investigation and relief,"
said Paul lightly, yet with purposely vague official mystery of
manner. Then, turning quickly to Yerba, as if replying to the only
real question at issue, he continued pointedly, "I am sorry to say
the colonel's health is so poor that it keeps him quite a recluse.
I have a letter from him and a message for you." His bright eyes
added plainly--"as soon as we can get rid of those people.
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