“We’re not trying to intervene, we assure you.”
“You had no business seeing my workman in the hospital!” Jarrett Walz continued, his voice rising. “Oh, you kept quiet about your visit there, but I learned of it, all the same!”
“We made no secret of our trip,” Mr. Livingston replied. He was trying to remain polite, but the motel owner’s belligerent attitude annoyed him.
“That’s so,” War chimed in, glaring at Walz. “We went because the old man sent for us.”
“He sent for you?” the motel owner repeated, his eyes glittering. “Why?”
War had told more than he intended. He began to stall: “Well, the old fellow was dying. He just wanted to see us.”
“About what?”
“Just to see us.”
“You must think me very stupid to accept that! Why shouldn’t he have sent for me? Here I’ve given him bed and board, but in his last hour, he turns to five utter strangers! Folks in Rocking Horse will say—”
“Yes?” Mr. Livingston prompted, as the motel owner interrupted himself.