“We walked out of the dinin' room and into the office. And there, by the clerk's desk, was a big, tall man, dressed up in clothes that was loud enough to speak for themselves, and with a shiny new tall hat, set with a list to port, on his head. He was smooth-faced and pug-nosed, with an upper lip like a camel's.
“He didn't pay much attention to us, nor to anybody else, for the matter of that. He was as mournful as a hearse, for all his joyful togs.
“'Fine day, ain't it?' says Sim, social.
“The tall chap looked up at him from under the deck of the beaver hat.
“'Huh!' he growls out, and looks down again.
“'I say it's a fine day,' said Phinney again.
“'I was after hearin' yez say it,' says the man, and walks off, scowlin' like a meat ax. We looked after him.
“'Who was that murderer?' asks Sim of the clerk. 'And when are they going to hang him?'
“'S-sh-sh!' whispers the clerk, scart. ''Tis the boss. The bloke what runs the hotel. He's a fine man, but he has troubles. He's blue.'
“'So that's the boss, hey?' says I. 'And he's blue. Well, he looks it. What's troublin' him? Ain't business good?'