CHAPTER V
BUCK’S LUCKY DAY
Murphy really looked as though about to have a stroke. His red face purpled deeply, and his plastered right hand gave a slight, spasmodic jerk.
“You want to watch that there hand real careful,” said Robinson with a solicitous air. “Real careful! Don’t let it jerk thataway; it’s a right bad sign, Mr. Murphy! Step up and have a seat, won’t you? Hello—you must ha’ scratched that hand or hurt it somehow; all plastered up, ain’t it?”
“I—I didn’t expect to be findin’ you here,” said Murphy, glaring viciously.
“Don’t doubt it,” was the cheerful response, while Stella Shumway looked from one to the other with suspicious scrutiny. “That’s my specialty, bein’ where I ain’t expected. But don’t let me interrupt your business talk none whatever. I’ll just set quiet and be a good feller. Mr. Murphy’s an old friend of mine, Stella; known him since yesterday afternoon. Set and rest yourself, Murphy. No ceremony here.”
Murphy compressed his thick lips, removed his hat, and finally shook his head.
“I ain’t settin’, thanks,” he returned, then faced the girl. “You don’t mind if I look over the place a bit, ma’am? Ain’t aiming to make myself obnoxious none, if——”
“Why, certainly,” faltered Estella, handing back the paper she had taken. “Since you bought the mortgage, you have a right to look over the property.”
“Wait a minute,” broke in Robinson. “It’s awful to have a tongue like mine; just can’t keep quiet two minutes. You started in a while ago, Murphy, to say something, then you switched off and started to look over the place. Let’s finish and get cleaned up all fine. What was it you started to orate about the mortgage?”