The Gold Girl Part 6

"My, what a shame! And now you may never see a man eat a breed, whatever a breed is."

"A breed's half a Injun." Microby was standing up on the seat at the imminent risk of her neck, peering over the heads of the crowd that thronged the sidewalk.

"Sit down!" commanded Patty, sharply, as she noted the amused glances with which those on the outskirts of the crowd viewed the ridiculous figure in the red dress and the pink sunbonnet. "They are waiting for the movie to open.

"Whut's a movie? Is. .h.i.t like the circust? Kin I go?" The questions crowded each other, as the girl scrambled to her seat, her eyes were big with excitement.

"Yes, to-morrow."

"Looky, there's Buck!" Patty's eyes followed the pointing finger, and she frowned at sight of the rangy buckskin tied with half a dozen other horses to the hitching rail before the door of a saloon. It seemed as she glanced along the street that nearly every building in town was a saloon. Half a block farther on she drew to the sidewalk and stopped before the door of a two-story wooden building that flaunted across its front the words "MONTANA HOTEL." As Patty climbed stiffly to the sidewalk each separate joint and muscle shrieked its aching protest at the fifteen-hour ride in the springless, jolting wagon. Microby placed her foot upon the sideboard and jumped, her cow-hide boots thudding loudly upon the wooden planking.

"Oughtn't you stay with the horses while I make the arrangements?"

Microby shook her head in vigorous protest. "They-all hain't a-goin'

nowheres less'n they has to. An' I want to go 'long."

A thick-set man, collarless and coatless, who tilted back in his chair with his feet upon the window ledge, glanced up indifferently as they entered and crossed to the desk, and returned his gaze to the window, beyond which objects showed dimly in the gathering darkness. After a moment of awkward silence Patty addressed him. "Is the proprietor anywhere about?"

"I'm him," grunted the man, without looking around.

The girl's face flushed angrily. "I want a room and supper for two."

"Nawthin' doin'. Full up."

"Is there another hotel in this town?" she flashed angrily.

"No."

"Do you mean to say that there is no place where we can get accommodation for the night?"

"That's about the size of it."

"Can't we get anything to eat, either?" It was with difficulty Patty concealed her rage at the man's insolence. "If you knew how hungry we are--we've been driving since daylight with only a cold lunch for food." She did not add that the cold lunch had been so unappetizing she had not touched it.

"Supper's over a couple hours, an' the help's gone out."

"I'll pay you well if you can only manage to get us something--we're starved." The girl's rage increased as she noticed the gleam that lighted the heavy eyes. That, evidently was what he had been waiting for.

"Well," he began, but she cut him short.

"And a room, too."

"I'm full up, I told you. The only way might be to pay someone to double up. An' with these here cowpunchers that comes high. I might--"

The opening of the screen door drew all eyes toward the man who entered and stood just within the room. As Patty glanced at the soft-brimmed hat, the brilliant scarf, and noticed that the yellow lamplight glinted upon the tip of polished buffalo horn, and the ivory b.u.t.t of the revolver, her lips tightened. But the man was not looking at her--seemed hardly aware of her presence. The burly proprietor smiled.

"h.e.l.lo, Vil. Somethin' I kin do fer you?"

"Yes," answered the man. He spoke quietly, but there was that in his voice that caused the other to glance at him sharply. "You can stand up."

The man complied without taking his eyes from the cowboy's face.

"I happened to be goin' by an' thought I'd stop an' see if I could take the team over to the livery barn for my--neighbors, yonder. The door bein' open, I couldn't help hearin' what you said." He paused, and the proprietor grinned.

"Business is business, an' a man's into it fer all he kin git."

"I suppose that's so. I suppose it's good business to lie an' cheat women, an'----"

"I hain't lied, an' I hain't cheated no one. An' what business is it of yourn if I did? All my rooms is full up, an' the help's all gone to the pitcher show."

"An' there's about a dozen or so cowmen stoppin' here to-night--the ones you talked of payin' to double up--an' there ain't one of 'em that wouldn't be glad to double up, or go out an' sleep on the street if he couldn't get nowhere else to sleep, if you even whispered that there was a lady needed his room. The boys is right touchy when it comes to bein' lied about."

The proprietor's face became suddenly serious. "Aw looky here, Vil, I didn't know these parties was friends of yourn. I'll see't they gits 'em a room, an' I expect I kin dig 'em out some cold meat an'

trimmin's. I was only kiddin'. Can't you take a joke?"

"Yes, I can take a joke. I'm only kiddin', too--an' so'll the boys be, after I tell 'em----"

"They hain't no use rilin' the boys up. I----"

"An' about that supper," continued the cowboy, ignoring the protest, "I guess that cold meat'll keep over. What these ladies needs is a good hot supper. Plenty of ham _and_, hot Java, potatoes, an' whatever you got."

"But the help's----"

"Get it yourself, then. It ain't so long since you was runnin' a short order dump. You ain't forgot how to get up a quick feed, an' to give the devil his due, a pretty good one."

The other started surlily toward the rear. "I'll do it, if----"

"You won't do it _if_ nothin'. You'll do it--that's all. An' you'll do it at the regular price, too."

"Say, who's runnin' this here _hotel_?"

"You're runnin' it, an' I'm tellin you how," answered the tall hillman, without taking his eyes from the other's face.

The man disappeared, muttering incoherently, and Vil Holland turned to the door.

"I want to thank you," ventured Patty. "Evidently your word carries weight with mine host."

"It better," replied the cowpuncher, dryly. "An' you're welcome. I'll take the team across to the livery barn." He spoke impersonally, with scarcely a glance in her direction, and as the screen door banged behind him the girl flushed, remembering her own rudeness upon the trail.

"Lawless he may be, and he certainly looks and acts the part," she murmured to herself as the wagon rattled away from the sidewalk, "but his propensity for turning up at the right time and the right place is rapidly becoming a matter of habit." A door beside the desk stood ajar, and above it, Patty read the words "WASH ROOM." Pushing it open she glanced into the interior which was dimly lighted by a murky oil lamp that occupied a sagging bracket beside a distorted mirror. Two tin wash basins occupied a sink-like contrivance above which a single iron faucet protruded from the wall. Beside the faucet was tacked a broad piece of wrapping paper upon which were printed in a laborious scrawl the following appeals:

NOTISS

Ples DoNT LEEv THE WaTTer RUN ITS hAN Pumpt.

PLes DONT Waist THE ToWL.

Kome AN BREsh AN TOOTH BResH IS INto THR Rak BESIDS THE MiRRoW. PLeS PUT EM baCK.

THes IS hoUSE RULes AN WANts TO be OBayD KINLY.

F. RuMMEL, PROP.