"Seven o'clock."
Bill shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, meditated, and announced: "Well, maybe they can get along without me. I got everythin' sys-sys-matized."
Marvin glanced at him quickly. "Bill, I'm afraid you've been having a drink or two?"
"Nope. Nope!" Bill repeated, with the debonair innocence of a mischievous and prevaricating school-boy. "I was just sayin' good-by to the boys out there." He signified with a jerk of his head that the lumberjacks were responsible if he seemed in any way elated. "You see, they're breakin' up camp—an' I didn't want to hurt their feelin's, as they're all friends o' mine."
Harper, who had resumed his seat in the chair, glanced at Marvin.
"Does our friend Bill know—what we were talking about?"
"Everything!" said Marvin, readily. "Rest easy, Mr. Harper—you'll never find a better friend, nor a more trustworthy one, than Lightnin'. But, surely, you have heard of his hotel, haven't you?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Then I guess you're the only man what 'ain't!" said Bill, emphatically, and gazing at the ceiling and thoroughly enjoying the fact that he was the subject of the conversation.
Rapidly Marvin sketched the conception and success of the Calivada Hotel. "It was a real idea—"