“He’s a funny highwayman,” declared Artie. “He must ’a’ wanted to get caught.”
“Maybe he had a tender conscience and was afraid he might shoot by accident—eh, Burton?” suggested Smithers with a smile.
As the boys were about to leave, the man extended to them a warm invitation to call again any time he was in. Guy, however, felt embarrassed because the hospitality seemed to be directed principally at him.
“He’s a fine man, isn’t he?” observed Artie as they waited for an elevator.
“Seems to be all right,” answered Guy.
“Seems to be?” exclaimed Artie reproachfully. “It’s funny you’re so cool about it when he’s so much interested in you. You’re the one he wants to call again.”
“That’s just what I don’t like about it. He’s a nice fellow and all that; but it isn’t very polite for a host to give all his attention to one when two invited callers are present.”
“You’re a queer one!” exclaimed Artie. “That didn’t bother me any. You’re a rich man’s son, an’ I’m only a hotel clerk. That’s the reason he was more interested in you.”
It was Guy’s turn to be astonished. He had not thought of this aspect of the affair.
“I’m surprised at you,” he said reproachfully. “I don’t believe he thought of such a thing. If he did, I haven’t any use for ’im.”