In the Rosemary the waiter was laying the plates for breakfast, and Bessie and the Reverend William were at the window, watching the stirring industry battle now in full swing on the opposite slope. Virginia joined them.
“Isn't it a shame!” she said. “Of course, I want our side to win; but it seems such a pity that we can't fight fairly.”
Calvert said, “Isn't what a shame?” thereby eliciting a crisp explanation from Virginia in which she set well-founded suspicion in the light of fact.
The Reverend Billy shook his head.
“Such things may be within the law—of business; but they will surely breed bad blood—”
The interruption was the Rajah in his proper person, bustling out fiercely to a conference with his Myrmidons. By tacit consent the three at the window fell silent.
There was a hasty mustering of armed men under the windows of the Rosemary, and they heard Sheriff Deckert's low-voiced instructions to his posse.
“Take it slow and easy, boys, and don't get rattled. Now, then; guns to the front! Steady!”
The Reverend Billy rose.
“What are you going to do?” said Virginia.