"Deed?" remarked Lightnin', carelessly. "Oh, I'd kinder forgot about that little matter. Nope. 'Ain't had time, old top—nope!" Ignoring the glares of the two men, he started to amble toward the door.
"Look here," Hammond called after him, "is Mr. Thomas in?"
"I guess so," replied Bill, pausing directly in front of Hammond and gazing up at him with a calm, shrewd light in his half-shut eyes. "He seems to stick around pretty close."
"Well," said Hammond, with a heavy frown, "just be good enough to step up and tell him that Sheriff Blodgett and I would like to see him!"
"Step up yourself," said old Bill, quietly, without shifting either his gaze or his position. "You ain't crippled, be you? An' I don't think as your friend Thomas'll fall off'n his chair with surprise if you drop in on him unexpected."
Without waiting for a reply, Bill turned away and ambled out of the lobby. Hammond swore; then strode angrily up-stairs, followed by Blodgett.
CHAPTER VIII
A few minutes after Lightnin' disappeared down the trail, headed for the local telegraph-office, John Marvin approached the hotel from the opposite direction. He paused when some distance away and viewed the place. It was his first visit in many weeks, and naturally his first since the great transformation. It could be surmised, however, that this visit was not one of idle curiosity; neither was his pause due to a mere desire to observe the various changes recently made. He watched the establishment closely for a minute; then came on slowly, keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings. As he reached the steps Millie came out on the veranda. She was engaged in what, these days, had become one of the chief occupations of nearly every one in the Hotel Calivada—searching for Lightnin' Bill Jones, whose persistent faculty of being absent when most wanted was fast assuming the dimensions of a public aggravation.
"Why, hello, stranger!" Millie exclaimed, with a welcoming smile. "I thought you had forgotten all about us! You haven't been here for ever so long!"