Ma Graham nodded corroboration.
"Yes; must have found something wrong, I guess." She refolded her hands, and once more relapsed into silence.
It was the breaking of the ice, however.
"Where d'ye suppose the trouble could have been, Graham?" It was another late-comer, Bud Buck, young and narrow of hips, who spoke.
"At Blair's," was the answer. "The Big B is the closest."
"Blair?" The questioner puffed at his cigarette thoughtfully. "Guess I never heard of him."
"Must be a stranger in these parts, then," said Marcom. "Most everybody knows Tom Blair." He paused to give an all-including glance. "At least well enough to get a slice of his dough," he finished with a sarcastic laugh.
"Does he handle the pasteboards?" asked Buck, with interest.
"Tries to," contemptuously.
The curiosity of the youthful Bud was now thoroughly aroused.