"Oh, no, no, no!" and Jarvis' voice again had that provokingly teasing tone in it. "I'll just stay right in the game and play my hand out—and watch every deal."
He turned toward Rusty.
"Come along, and let's see if we can find the landlord. We'll have a look at our rooms," he said. "Hurry, Rusty—don't go to sleep—the bedrooms are upstairs."
Rusty was very thoughtful as he picked up the bags and began to follow. The Duke watched the two with sidelong glances. Both characters were mysteries to him—so different, nonchalant, and unaffected by this serious task. Europeans would have taken the case at least with greater seriousness.
"What's the matter with you, Rusty? In love?"
The negro was lost in a deep study, as he sniffed the air in a thoughtful, absent-minded fashion.
"Marse Warren, I'd like to find a piece of chicken!"
"Great Scott! What put that into your head?"
"Oh, lawsee, Marse Warren, I'se powerful hungry! It ain't human to be so hungry!"
"What—again?"