The pair walked into the hotel, and Joe saw them register and pass down the corridor in the company of a bell boy. Then our hero entered the place.
“Can I get a room here for the night?” he asked of the clerk behind the desk.
“Certainly.”
“What is the charge?”
“Seventy-five cents.”
“That suits me.”
The register was shoved forward and Joe wrote down his name. Then he was shown to a small room on the third floor. The building was but four stories high.
Joe was tired and soon went to bed. In the next room he heard a murmur of voices and made out that the old farmer and his friend were talking earnestly.
“They must be very friendly,” was his comment, and thinking the matter over he fell asleep.
Bright and early in the morning our hero arose, dressed himself, and went below. He had breakfast in the restaurant attached to the hotel and was just finishing up when the old farmer and the slick-looking individual came in.