“I reckon he was born that way,” he answered facetiously.
Here they were interrupted by a vociferous protest from the street, and the youth again stuck his head out of the window.
“You say he ain't there? Did you look for him good?” he demanded being assured on this point he requested the person in the street to go over to James's drug store. “I shouldn't wonder if he ain't playing checkers there,” he added.
This quest proved successful, for two minutes later the captain, wearing an air of cheerful and contented prosperity, bustled into the room.
“Bless me! Is it you, Jake?” he cried in astonishment, on seeing whom his visitor was.
Benson's greeting was curt but civil.
“Where are you stopping?” asked Gibbs. “And what are you doing here, anyhow? Not that it is any of my business, for it ain't.”
Benson briefly explained the nature of the mission that was taking him West, and as he did so, the captain rubbed the tip of his nose with his forefinger, regarding him the while with a growing wonder.
“Have a drink?” he demanded, when the lawyer had finished.
“No.”