The clerk placed himself at the disposal of the secret service, and Lin walked up and down, looking at the railroad photographs for some ten minutes, when Master Billy peered in from the street.
“Hello!” said Mr. McLean, casually, and returned to a fine picture of Pike's Peak.
Billy observed him for a space, and, receiving no further attention, came stepping along. “I'm not a-going back to Laramie,” he stated, warningly.
“I wouldn't,” said Lin. “It ain't half the town Denver is. Well, good-night. Sorry yu' couldn't call sooner—I'm dead sleepy.”
“O-h!” Billy stood blank. “I wish I'd shook the darned old show. Say, lemme black your boots in the morning?”
“Not sure my train don't go too early.”
“I'm up! I'm up! I get around to all of 'em.”
“Where do yu' sleep?”
“Sleeping with the engine-man now. Why can't you put that on me to-night?”
“Goin' up-stairs. This gentleman wouldn't let you go up-stairs.”