“There, mister, now you g-g-got somethin’ to put in your safe. Bet this d-d-dollar’ll s’prise it most to death.”
Well, sir, that’s the way that hotel looked, like dollars were pretty scarce there, and what Mark said hit the man right under the belt. At first he was mad, but pretty soon he grinned, sheepish-like, and says:
“You got me there, sonny. You got me there. Business hain’t what it used to be when the river was floatin’ down its millions of feet of timber. Them days is gone with ’em. There’s new things to-day, boys, but us old-timers hain’t able somehow to learn new ways. Our luck went with the timber. Don’t blame you for hittin’ back, sonny. I was perty fresh with you, and I beg your pardon.” He stuck out his hand, and we both shook it, and were sorry for him. He looked like a nice man, and we hoped his hard luck wouldn’t last.
He showed us up-stairs and came into the room with us.
“Never had no boys of my own,” says he. “Wanted ’em, too.” And he sat down and told us some stories about the old lumbering days and what a wild town Ludington was when the run came down and how the lumberjacks, with their Mackinaw jackets and calked boots, used to swarm into town and make it dangerous for anybody that couldn’t take pretty good care of himself to be out of doors. He told us stories about the camps and about life on the rivers, and about fights and about birreling-matches, till we forgot we were sleepy. My, but those must have been bully days! But they’re all over in Michigan. Men that thought too much of money have butchered off the pine, and there isn’t any left, when it might have lasted for ever, almost, if it had been looked after the right way. The hotel-keeper says folks realize that now when it’s too late.
After a while he said good night. “Boys,” says he, “I’ve enjoyed talkin’ with you. D’you know, I wouldn’t charge you a cent for stoppin’ here, but I bet I need that dollar a dozen times as bad as you do.”
CHAPTER XIX
The hotel-keeper called us at six o’clock. There wasn’t any need for a second call, and we hurried down and had some eggs and salt pork and potatoes and coffee and bread and butter and canned peaches. Just a light breakfast. After we got out in the street we bought some bananas and ate three apiece. After that we felt all right.
“To-day’s the l-l-last of it,” says Mark.
“Somebody’ll win sure before night,” I says.