Lightnin Part 11

The color rose to the little woman's face. "I don't see--"

"He's a mighty fine feller!" Bill went on, calmly. "Got a pile o' money, too, an' I bet he's some generous with it--specially to them what he loves. People is always makin' fool mistakes. Say, you ain't really goin' to git a divorce, are you?"

Now the astonished little woman's eyes filled with angry tears. "Oh!"

she gasped. "Oh! How dare you speak to me like this! It's none of your business!"

"Sure it is," said Lightnin', his voice kindly, confidential. "I know all about it. He didn't git that present for his stenographer."

"How do you know?" she snapped.

"I heard him tellin' all about it to Marvin, the boy what sold him that timber up yonder. I knocked," Bill explained, whimsically, "but they didn't seem to hear, an' I was kinder forced to listen in from the outside. Your husband was all het up an' near committin' suicide 'cause you thought he done what he didn't. He told Marvin he bought that present for you when he was in Noo York. He was just a-showin' it to his office lady when you walked in."

"Nonsense!"

"No, it ain't. It's truth. There's some things I don't go wrong on, an'

this is one, Mrs. Harper. Your husband's a mighty fine feller an'--"

With a stamp of her foot, the little woman flung away from the desk and, followed by the faithful maid, hurried up-stairs, where--and perhaps Bill suspected this--she buried her head in a pillow and cried and cried.

Bill stood at the desk with his head c.o.c.ked on one side, idly tapping his ear with a pen. He heard the door of Mrs. Harper's room slam and he grinned amiably.

"Eatin' her heart out for him," he mused. "Just eatin' her heart out, but too s.p.u.n.ky to back down!"

He gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling for a few minutes; then slowly he reached into the drawer and took out a telegram blank. His eyes twinkled as he wrote a brief message. He folded up the blank, stuffed it into his pocket, and was turning away from the desk with the intention of seeking the telegraph-office, when Hammond and Sheriff Blodgett came strolling back into the lobby.

"Oh, so you're actually here, are you?" exclaimed Hammond, glaring at Bill. "Have you signed that deed yet?"

Hammond, direct, bulldozing, totally lacking in Thomas's smooth diplomacy, had lost all patience with Bill Jones. That morning he had decided that the only way to handle Bill was to ride over him rough-shod. "Have you signed that deed?" he repeated, loudly.

"Deed?" remarked Lightnin', carelessly. "Oh, I'd kinder forgot about that little matter. Nope. 'Ain't had time, old top--nope!" Ignoring the glares of the two men, he started to amble toward the door.

"Look here," Hammond called after him, "is Mr. Thomas in?"

"I guess so," replied Bill, pausing directly in front of Hammond and gazing up at him with a calm, shrewd light in his half-shut eyes. "He seems to stick around pretty close."

"Well," said Hammond, with a heavy frown, "just be good enough to step up and tell him that Sheriff Blodgett and I would like to see him!"

"Step up yourself," said old Bill, quietly, without shifting either his gaze or his position. "You ain't crippled, be you? An' I don't think as your friend Thomas'll fall off'n his chair with surprise if you drop in on him unexpected."

Without waiting for a reply, Bill turned away and ambled out of the lobby. Hammond swore; then strode angrily up-stairs, followed by Blodgett.

CHAPTER VIII

A few minutes after Lightnin' disappeared down the trail, headed for the local telegraph-office, John Marvin approached the hotel from the opposite direction. He paused when some distance away and viewed the place. It was his first visit in many weeks, and naturally his first since the great transformation. It could be surmised, however, that this visit was not one of idle curiosity; neither was his pause due to a mere desire to observe the various changes recently made. He watched the establishment closely for a minute; then came on slowly, keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings. As he reached the steps Millie came out on the veranda. She was engaged in what, these days, had become one of the chief occupations of nearly every one in the Hotel Calivada--searching for Lightnin' Bill Jones, whose persistent faculty of being absent when most wanted was fast a.s.suming the dimensions of a public aggravation.

"Why, h.e.l.lo, stranger!" Millie exclaimed, with a welcoming smile. "I thought you had forgotten all about us! You haven't been here for ever so long!"

Marvin came up the steps and seized both her hands, which she let him hold for a moment.

"I haven't forgotten _you_, Millie," he said, gently, smiling down into her brown eyes. "But--well, you know I went away last time with an idea that you didn't care to see me."

"Silly boy!" Her tone was gaily impersonal, but her red lips puckered into a pretty pout as she walked to a chair in the corner of the veranda and sat down.

"I thought that maybe you had returned to Mr. Thomas's office," he remarked, following her and standing beside her chair.

"No; I'm not going back, not now," said Millie, thoughtfully. She did not look up at him, but fixed her gaze on her hands, folded in her lap.

"What a tremendous student you were in his office! I never saw any one work so hard as you did."

"Except when you were in the room--then I was looking at you, most of the time!" Marvin bent over her, but she gave no sign that she read his att.i.tude.

"If you'd been looking at me, I'd have seen you." She smiled and raised her eyes. "You've not given up the study of law, have you?" There was concern in the lift of her brow.

"Oh no! But I'm not going back into Mr. Thomas's office. Why did you leave him, Millie? Was there any trouble?"

"Trouble? Of course not! How could any one have trouble with Mr.

Thomas?" Surprise and annoyance stood in her eyes.

Marvin did not reply at once, but drew up another chair and sat down facing her. He leaned forward, his eyes searching hers as he questioned, "You like Mr. Thomas--like him very much, don't you, Millie?"

"I more than like him!" An angry color suffused her cheeks as she looked Marvin up and down. "I adore him!" she added. "You've no idea how fine he is!"

Marvin started at this--naturally. The situation was going to be more difficult than he had antic.i.p.ated. Could it be that Millie was really in love with Raymond Thomas? Or had he merely convinced her that his business motives were all that they should be? Perhaps it was both!

Anyway, it was obvious that the girl had Thomas up on some sort of pedestal; she was in a s.p.u.n.ky mood, and Marvin saw that he was going to have his hands full trying to convince her that the feet on the pedestal were made of clay. Marvin flushed himself; he did not relish his position; he shrank from seemingly disparaging another man behind his back, especially to a girl. If there had been only himself to consider, he would not have spoken at all. Neither was it altogether for Millie's sake. She was young, capable, quick-witted; she would see through Thomas of her own accord, soon enough--if she were not actually in love with him! But Marvin was thinking of the old people, of hard-working, simple Mrs. Jones, and of amiable, careless Bill. Millie was the young, strong member of the Jones household, and it was Millie who must be convinced and won over, if possible. Thus ran Marvin's thoughts--but quite honestly he admitted to himself that his love for the girl might be coloring his logic and his motives just a little.

"I'd like to tell you something I know about Thomas--"

"Oh, I know!" Millie interrupted, quickly. "He sold some property for your mother, isn't that it?"

"Yes; he sold it to the railroad--for a big price."

"I know--he told me all about it. He's a splendid business man! Why, that's exactly what he is doing for us! Hasn't daddy told you about it?"

She glanced at him quickly, but he gave no sign of having heard this wonderful news. "I should think you'd like to see Mr. Thomas. He's up-stairs packing, now. He's leaving this evening. He came all the way from San Francisco just to help me--to help us all!"

"To help you?" Marvin asked.

Millie clasped her hands over her knees and went on, enthusiastically: "Why, this hotel idea has turned out splendidly, you know. But a week or two ago, Mr. Thomas wrote to mother, saying that he had heard that the railroad company had got wind of our success and contemplated putting up a rival hotel just back of us. Mother was nearly crazy at the news, and I wrote to Mr. Thomas, asking him his advice. He telegraphed that he would be right out to see us! Wasn't that just like him?"

"Exactly," said Marvin, dryly. "And I presume that when Mr. Thomas arrived he suggested that you let him persuade the railroad to buy this place and erect the new hotel here, instead of next door!"

"Why, John--aren't you clever!" Millie exclaimed. "How did you guess it?

That is exactly what he suggested, and now it's all arranged! And they're going to pay enough to make mother and daddy comfortable for the rest of their lives!"

With a hopeless gesture, Marvin got to his feet and took a pace or two up and down the veranda. The girl watched him, puzzled.