“Mine, of course. Not bad, is it?”
“No, it’s fine and dandy, but I understood that some one else had taken this. Didn’t that chap downstairs tell us that, Poke?”
“Sure he did. I guess Bull’s spoofing.”
“I dare say he did tell you that,” said Gary. “But I engaged this room last June from Mrs. Timberlake.”
“Oh, I see!” Gil nodded his head. “Well, that explains it. Too bad, too, for it’s a mighty pleasant room. Still, there’s one across the hall that looks pretty decent and I dare say you’ll be just as happy there, Bull.”
“Me? I’m staying here,” said Gary uneasily.
But Gil shook his head gently and firmly. So did Poke.
“No, you can’t do that, you see,” said Gil. “This room belongs to the other chap. You see, Bull, Mrs. Timberlake gave up the house. That canceled everything. Then this Mrs.——Mrs. Whatshername took it from Simpson. Get me, Bull? Your case isn’t good, old scout.”
“That makes no difference!” blustered Gary. “I engaged this room—”
“Tut, tut! Don’t be dense, Bull. Have we got to explain it all over again to you? Honest, Gil, he’s the prize dunce, isn’t he?”