“Three days ago.”
“Um!” says the stranger. “What was you lookin’ for him for?”
“Business,” says Jiggins, and his voice began to sound like he wasn’t exactly pleased.
“Most likely,” says the stranger. “Well,” he says, sort of dry-like and humorous, “I don’t calc’late I can help you any. Why? Best reason in the world. The Hieronymous I know don’t wear no beard at all. Good evenin’, gents.”
Well, I could have busted right out laughing, but Mark pinched my leg so hard I almost hollered because it hurt. “Hush!” says he. Oh, but it was great! I never was so tickled in all my life as I was to hear that old lumberman get the best of those two. I’d pay money to hear it again. Yes, sir, I’d go as high as a quarter, and we don’t dig up quarters in my back yard, either.
We waited a short spell, and Mark says: “I’ll follow the lumberman and find out where Uncle Hieronymous is apt to be and who he w-w-works for. You f-f-follow Jiggins & Co. to where they sleep.”
“All right,” says I, and off we went.
Jiggins and Collins went straight to the big hotel on the avenue. I climbed the steps as close behind them as I dared and saw them go up to the man behind the counter. This man poked a big book at them, and they signed their names to it. Then the man called a boy over, who took a key and led them over to the stairs. All this time I was peeking in a window with a screen in it.
Just as Jiggins was putting his foot on the first step he turned around and called out, “Leave a call for us for seven o’clock.”
That settled them for the night. I knew where they were, and I knew how long they would stay there. Now Mark and I could take a few hours’ snooze, and we needed it bad, I can tell you. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t have traded for eight long hours of sleep.