“I don’t know what your plans are, Mr. Cain,” he went on, after we had dipped into the bourbon, “but if you want a little relaxation and a mild gamble, you could do worse than spend
some of your time here.”
“That’s just what I do want,” I said. “I’m figuring on a quiet time, and a little company when I feel that way.” I fiddled with my glass and then went on, “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but frankly, I’m a little puzzled by all this attention.”
He laughed. “You’re modest, Mr. Cain,” he said, shrugging. “Why even in this little place, far from anywhere, we’ve heard of you. We’re glad to offer hospitality to such a successful gambler.”
“I appreciate it,” I said, and shot him a hard look. “But I’d like to get this on record for all that. I’m on vacation: that means I’m not working. I wouldn’t b e interested in any proposition from anyone. I don’t suggest that I am going to be propositioned, but this build-up is a little overwhelming. I don’t kid myself that I’m all that important. So pass the word around. I’m not in the market for anything except a vacation, and persuasion makes me mad. So if you still want to entertain me, go ahead, but it’s all right by me if you want to put up the shutters and send me home.”
He laughed silently and easily as if I’d cracked the funniest gag in the world.
“I assure you, Mr. Cain, you won’t be propositioned. This town is small but very rich. We’re hospitable people. We like distinguished visitors to have a good time. All we want is for you to relax and enjoy yourself.”
I thanked him and said I would.
But in spite of his smoothness and his easy laugh, I had a feeling that he was jeering at me.