"Indeed!" cried Thomas, in a tone of pleasant surprise.
"Nope. I was the only man he would let look out."
Thomas laughed effusively and gently tapped Bill on the back. "Capital!" he exclaimed. "You must tell me some more later on. And you've got to come to town with me some time, Mr. Jones. But"—and for a moment he turned his brilliant smile on Millie and Mrs. Jones—"I've been thinking ever since supper of that great idea of yours about turning this place into a hotel for the broken-hearted. Really, I've given much serious thought to it, as I was telling your wife just before you and Miss Buckley joined us. I am so interested in you all that I hate to act like a damper, but I have very grave doubts about it being a paying proposition. And then I fear none of you have taken into consideration the vast amount of work, preparation, and alteration the scheme will entail. Now, as you are doing this to—er—well, to improve the financial yield of the establishment—you have flattered me by deeming me worthy of your confidence, Mrs. Jones, so perhaps I need not hesitate over words—it seems to me that we might find some other and easier way of accomplishing the desired object—"
"Hello, Lem! Come an' set down," called Bill, calmly interrupting the above flow of words and addressing a tall, rather impressive and distinguished-looking man of about forty who had come up the veranda steps.
"How's it goin' Lem?" Bill asked. He turned his eyes on Thomas. "Lem's runnin' fer superior judge o' Washoe County at the fall election."
Mrs. Jones and Millie greeted Townsend cordially and the girl placed a chair for him while he turned to shake hands with Thomas, who had recovered his slightly shattered poise and risen gracefully. Townsend shook hands genially, but there was a lurking frown in Raymond Thomas's eyes—more than a suggestion that he was annoyed at the interruption, and, for reasons of his own, resented the presence of another person on the veranda. His dazzling smile was at work, however.
"It is a pleasure to meet the future legal light of Washoe County!" he said.
"That's right—better make yourself solid with him now," said Bill, throwing away the remains of the cigar and bringing out his tobacco and papers. There was something in his voice that somehow did not bring a laugh.
"Why, daddy!" cried Millie. "I don't think that's funny at all!"
Bill merely glanced at her and went on rolling his cigarette. Thomas had given Bill a keen, puzzled look; but no one could ever tell from Lightnin's expression whether or not any special meaning lay back of his words.