“We are not ready to retire yet.”
“I am glad I happened to come here. It will be pleasant to be in the same house with an old friend.”
Grant was truthful, and did not respond to the compliment.
About eight o’clock he and his partner went up to their chamber, where, as the nights were growing cool, they were accustomed to sit before a fire and chat of their prospects. Now their privacy seemed likely to be broken in upon, for Benton invited himself to go up with them.
“Come, now, this is what I call comfort,” he said, and he leaned back in his chair and puffed at a cigar. “Reminds me of old times. I say, what a queer chap Crambo is!”
“He is rather peculiar, but a good-natured, pleasant man.”
“Oh, I don’t say anything about that, but he’s got a wife that is twice as smart as he is.”
“Mrs. Crambo knows how to cook. That is what chiefly interests us.”
Albert Benton had an inquiring mind, and was gifted with a large measure of curiosity. He looked about the room, and his glance fell on the chest.
“What do you keep in that?” he inquired.