The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail [29]
Royal Hotel.
An attendant in cowboy garb came lounging up.
"Hello, Billy!" cried Cameron. "Still blooming?"
"Sure! And rosebuds ain't in it with you, Colonel." Billy was from the land of colonels. "You've got a whole garden with you this trip, eh?"
"My wife, Billy," replied Cameron, presenting her.
Billy pulled off his Stetson.
"Proud to meet you, madam. Hope I see you well and happy."
"Yes, indeed, well and happy," cried Mandy emphatically.
"Sure thing, if looks mean anything," said Billy, admiration glowing in his eyes.
"Take the horses, Billy. They have come a hundred and fifty miles."
"Hundred and fifty, eh? They don't look it. But I'll take care of 'em all right. You go right in."
"I shall be back presently, Billy," said Cameron, passing into the dingy sitting-room that opened off the bar.
In a few minutes he had his wife settled in a frowsy little eight- by-ten bedroom, the best the hotel afforded, and departed to attend to his team, make arrangements for supper and inquire about the incoming train. The train he found to be three hours late. His team he found in the capable hands of Billy, who was unharnessing and rubbing them down. While ordering his supper a hand gripped his shoulder and a voice shouted in his ear:
"Hello, old sport! How goes it?"
"Martin, old boy!" shouted Cameron in reply. "It's awfully good to see you. How did you get here? Oh, yes, of course, I remember. You left the construction camp and came here to settle down." All the while Cameron was speaking he was shaking his friend's hand with both of his. "By Jove, but you're fit!" he continued, running his eye over the slight but athletic figure of his friend.
"Fit! Never fitter, not even in the old days when I used to pass the pigskin to you out of the scrimmage. But you? You're hardly up to the mark." The keen gray eyes searched Cameron's face. "What's up with you?"
"Oh, nothing. A little extra work and a little worry, but I'll tell you later."
"Well, what are you on to now?" inquired Martin.
"Ordering our supper. We've just come in from a hundred and fifty miles' drive."
"Supper? Your wife here too? Glory! It's up to me, old boy! Look here, Connolly," he turned to the proprietor behind the bar, "a bang-up supper for three. All the season's delicacies and all the courses in order. As you love me, Connolly, do us your prettiest. And soon, awfully soon. A hundred and fifty miles, remember. Now, then, how's my old nurse?" he continued, turning back to Cameron. "She was my nurse, remember, till you came and stole her."
"She was, eh? Ask her," laughed Cameron. "But she will be glad to see you. Where's MY nurse, then, my little nurse, who saw me through a fever and a broken leg?"
"Oh, she's up in the mountains still, in the construction camp. I proposed to bring her down here with me, but there was a riot. I barely escaped. If ever she gets out from that camp it will be when they are all asleep or when she is in a box car."
"Come along, then," cried Cameron. "I have much to tell you, and my wife will be glad to see you. My sister comes in by No. 1, do you know?"
"Your sister? By No. 1? You don't say! Why, I never thought your sister--by No. 1, eh?"
"Yes, by No. 1."
"Say, Doc," said the hotel man, breaking into the conversation. "There's a bunch of 'em comin' in, ain't there? Who's the lady you was expectin' yourself on No. 1?"
"Lady?" said Cameron. "What's this, Martin?"
"Me? Wake up, Connolly, you're walking in your sleep," violently signaling to the hotel man.
"Oh, it won't do, Martin," said Cameron with grave concern. "You may as well own up. Who is it? Come. By Jove! What? A blush? And on that asbestos cheek? Something here, sure enough."
"Oh, rot, Cameron! Connolly is a well-known somnambulist."
"Sure thing!" said Connolly. "Is it catchin,' for I guess you had the same thing last night?"
"Connolly, you've gone batty! You need a nurse."
"A nurse? Maybe so. Maybe so. But I guess you've got to the
An attendant in cowboy garb came lounging up.
"Hello, Billy!" cried Cameron. "Still blooming?"
"Sure! And rosebuds ain't in it with you, Colonel." Billy was from the land of colonels. "You've got a whole garden with you this trip, eh?"
"My wife, Billy," replied Cameron, presenting her.
Billy pulled off his Stetson.
"Proud to meet you, madam. Hope I see you well and happy."
"Yes, indeed, well and happy," cried Mandy emphatically.
"Sure thing, if looks mean anything," said Billy, admiration glowing in his eyes.
"Take the horses, Billy. They have come a hundred and fifty miles."
"Hundred and fifty, eh? They don't look it. But I'll take care of 'em all right. You go right in."
"I shall be back presently, Billy," said Cameron, passing into the dingy sitting-room that opened off the bar.
In a few minutes he had his wife settled in a frowsy little eight- by-ten bedroom, the best the hotel afforded, and departed to attend to his team, make arrangements for supper and inquire about the incoming train. The train he found to be three hours late. His team he found in the capable hands of Billy, who was unharnessing and rubbing them down. While ordering his supper a hand gripped his shoulder and a voice shouted in his ear:
"Hello, old sport! How goes it?"
"Martin, old boy!" shouted Cameron in reply. "It's awfully good to see you. How did you get here? Oh, yes, of course, I remember. You left the construction camp and came here to settle down." All the while Cameron was speaking he was shaking his friend's hand with both of his. "By Jove, but you're fit!" he continued, running his eye over the slight but athletic figure of his friend.
"Fit! Never fitter, not even in the old days when I used to pass the pigskin to you out of the scrimmage. But you? You're hardly up to the mark." The keen gray eyes searched Cameron's face. "What's up with you?"
"Oh, nothing. A little extra work and a little worry, but I'll tell you later."
"Well, what are you on to now?" inquired Martin.
"Ordering our supper. We've just come in from a hundred and fifty miles' drive."
"Supper? Your wife here too? Glory! It's up to me, old boy! Look here, Connolly," he turned to the proprietor behind the bar, "a bang-up supper for three. All the season's delicacies and all the courses in order. As you love me, Connolly, do us your prettiest. And soon, awfully soon. A hundred and fifty miles, remember. Now, then, how's my old nurse?" he continued, turning back to Cameron. "She was my nurse, remember, till you came and stole her."
"She was, eh? Ask her," laughed Cameron. "But she will be glad to see you. Where's MY nurse, then, my little nurse, who saw me through a fever and a broken leg?"
"Oh, she's up in the mountains still, in the construction camp. I proposed to bring her down here with me, but there was a riot. I barely escaped. If ever she gets out from that camp it will be when they are all asleep or when she is in a box car."
"Come along, then," cried Cameron. "I have much to tell you, and my wife will be glad to see you. My sister comes in by No. 1, do you know?"
"Your sister? By No. 1? You don't say! Why, I never thought your sister--by No. 1, eh?"
"Yes, by No. 1."
"Say, Doc," said the hotel man, breaking into the conversation. "There's a bunch of 'em comin' in, ain't there? Who's the lady you was expectin' yourself on No. 1?"
"Lady?" said Cameron. "What's this, Martin?"
"Me? Wake up, Connolly, you're walking in your sleep," violently signaling to the hotel man.
"Oh, it won't do, Martin," said Cameron with grave concern. "You may as well own up. Who is it? Come. By Jove! What? A blush? And on that asbestos cheek? Something here, sure enough."
"Oh, rot, Cameron! Connolly is a well-known somnambulist."
"Sure thing!" said Connolly. "Is it catchin,' for I guess you had the same thing last night?"
"Connolly, you've gone batty! You need a nurse."
"A nurse? Maybe so. Maybe so. But I guess you've got to the