Land. Quite right, but it’s got to be humored same as other things. He’s as quiet as a lamb if you don’t wake him.
Bulger. (Suspiciously.) Hum! And if he wakes?
Land. He’s kind o’ restless. He may walk the floor.
Bulger. (Growling.) Indeed! Let him try it.
Land. (Hand on B.’s arm.) Quiet now. You may wake him. Good night, sir. (Leaves candle on stand. Exit R. softly.)
Bulger. (Hangs coat on rack, goes to closet door, looks in.) What’s this? A two by three closet. (Sits and takes off boots.) I’ll put my things in the closet, though I don’t suppose this one-horse town can afford even a burglar. I’ll strike this town from my list. Such a snide hotel isn’t to be found this side the Mississippi river. (Goes in closet. Leg. turns in bed and mutters in his sleep. Caterwauling in alley. Boy outside up L. does this.)
Re-enter Bulger, in pajama or colored night robe. Examines sheets.
Bulger. Damp, as usual! I’ll catch my death of cold. I always get a cold in this town. The place is so slow, that’s the only thing people can catch. (Rings bell by door R.) I’ll have the sheets changed, if I have to rouse every chambermaid in the house. (Sits and opens valise.) I’ll take a liver pill while I think of it. Always have to take a liver pill in this town. It’s so slow that a man’s liver stops business. I am catching cold already. If I sneeze I’ll wake him. (Business of suppressing sneeze.) There’s a draft somewhere. (Tip-toes to window. Leggatt turns and mutters in his sleep. B. stops.) I’ll wake his literary nibbs, sure. (Tries window.) Wide open and stuck fast; windows always stick in this town. When they are up they stay up, when they are down they stay down. And that old hay-seed actually calls this a first-class hotel. He amuses me. (Sets candle on chair.) Confound that bell. (Pushes it again several times.) I guess I’ll smoke while I am waiting. (Goes to get pipe out of coat pocket.) Where’s that pipe? (Pulls coat with impatience, rack comes down with a clatter and coat swings round and knocks candle to floor, putting it out. B. darts to his bed and gets in.)
Leggatt. (Rising to sitting posture.) What’s that? Who’s there? Heh? A burglar! I’ll shoot, you rascal! (Attempts to pull out drawer of his table to find pistol. Drawer sticks and his books and everything go clatter to floor.)