★ IV ★
At 4:45 that afternoon the bus for Absalom’s pulled out of the terminal on Redwood Street and headed South. Neill Tryon sat by a window, looking out with a wooden face. Now that he had an objective, he had steadied; he could wait. After thinking it over he had decided to handle this matter by himself—quietly. He wished to avoid subjecting Janet to any ugly publicity. He had dressed himself in a rough surveyor’s outfit, including khaki breeches and knee boots, in order to be ready for anything.
The bus was a small one for local traffic, and the passengers were all residents of the southern counties who had been to town for a day’s shopping. Neill, as the only “foreigner” aboard, received many curious glances which made him slightly uneasy, because he didn’t want to be too well
