"You haven't engaged this tavern all to yourself, have you?" demanded Jonathan. "Ain't it free to other travelers?"
Sharpley saw the other had him at advantage.
"Didn't you come here because we were here?" he asked.
"May be I did, and then again may be I didn't," the other replied. "There ain't any law ag'in it, is there?"
"I should hardly suppose you would wish to thrust yourself into the society of those who don't want you."
"I won't run up no bills on your account," said Mr. Tarbox; "but I'm goin' just where I please, even if you are there already. Frank here ain't no way troubled about it."
"Frank, as you call him, is under my guardianship," said Mr. Sharpley, with a sneer. "I don't wish him to associate with improper persons."
"Do you call me an improper person?" demanded Mr. Tarbox, offended.
"You can draw your own inferences, Mr.—I really don't know who."
"Tarbox, of Squashboro', State o' Maine."