“We've heard enough, anyway,” replied the same drummer briskly. “So these young men, who are a credit to their profession and to their home towns, are ordered to leave here? Boys, I guess we leave, too, don't we?”
The other traveling salesmen assented emphatically.
Now Proprietor Ashby felt dismal, indeed. These five men were occupying the best quarters in his hotel, outside of those occupied by Jim Duff. It was not the loss of patronage from these men alone that troubled Ashby. Traveling salesmen have their own ways of “passing around the word” and downing any hotel that depends largely on their patronage.
“You can have all our rooms, then, Mr. Ashby,” proposed the same drummer. “We'll have our things out and be ready for our bills within twenty minutes.”
“But, gentlemen, be calm about this,” begged Ashby. “Finish your meals first. There may be some way of arranging—”
“There is,” returned the drummer, with a smile that was a fine duplicate of Tom's own. “We know just where to arrange for the kind of accommodations that we want. Mr. Reade,” turning to Tom and Harry, “will you allow me to introduce ourselves. We are aching to shake hands with you, for we've heard all about you.”
Proprietor Ashby fidgeted at the side, while the eight departing guests paused long enough to make their names known to each other.
Jim Duff had vanished early, leaving the hotel man to his own humiliation.
The introductions concluded, Hawkins followed the young engineers to their room while the drummers went to their own more costly quarters and hastily packed their belongings.
Fifteen minutes later the party stood in the office and porters were bringing down trunks. Tom and Harry, keeping most of their belongings at camp, had only suit cases to carry.