Bill stood at the desk with his head cocked on one side, idly tapping his ear with a pen. He heard the door of Mrs. Harper's room slam and he grinned amiably.
"Eatin' her heart out for him," he mused. "Just eatin' her heart out, but too spunky to back down!"
He gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling for a few minutes; then slowly he reached into the drawer and took out a telegram blank. His eyes twinkled as he wrote a brief message. He folded up the blank, stuffed it into his pocket, and was turning away from the desk with the intention of seeking the telegraph-office, when Hammond and Sheriff Blodgett came strolling back into the lobby.
"Oh, so you're actually here, are you?" exclaimed Hammond, glaring at Bill. "Have you signed that deed yet?"
Hammond, direct, bulldozing, totally lacking in Thomas's smooth diplomacy, had lost all patience with Bill Jones. That morning he had decided that the only way to handle Bill was to ride over him rough-shod. "Have you signed that deed?" he repeated, loudly.
"Deed?" remarked Lightnin', carelessly. "Oh, I'd kinder forgot about that little matter. Nope. 'Ain't had time, old top – nope!" Ignoring the glares of the two men, he started to amble toward the door.
"Look here," Hammond called after him, "is Mr. Thomas in?"
"I guess so," replied Bill, pausing directly in front of Hammond and gazing up at him with a calm, shrewd light in his half-shut eyes. "He seems to stick around pretty close."
"Well," said Hammond, with a heavy frown, "just be good enough to step up and tell him that Sheriff Blodgett and I would like to see him!"
"Step up yourself," said old Bill, quietly, without shifting either his gaze or his position. "You ain't crippled, be you? An' I don't think as your friend Thomas'll fall off'n his chair with surprise if you drop in on him unexpected."
Without waiting for a reply, Bill turned away and ambled out of the lobby. Hammond swore; then strode angrily up-stairs, followed by Blodgett.
CHAPTER VIII
A few minutes after Lightnin' disappeared down the trail, headed for the local telegraph-office, John Marvin approached the hotel from the opposite direction. He paused when some distance away and viewed the place. It was his first visit in many weeks, and naturally his first since the great transformation. It could be surmised, however, that this visit was not one of idle curiosity; neither was his pause due to a mere desire to observe the various changes recently made. He watched the establishment closely for a minute; then came on slowly, keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings. As he reached the steps Millie came out on the veranda. She was engaged in what, these days, had become one of the chief occupations of nearly every one in the Hotel Calivada – searching for Lightnin' Bill Jones, whose persistent faculty of being absent when most wanted was fast assuming the dimensions of a public aggravation.
"Why, hello, stranger!" Millie exclaimed, with a welcoming smile. "I thought you had forgotten all about us! You haven't been here for ever so long!"
Marvin came up the steps and seized both her hands, which she let him hold for a moment.
"I haven't forgotten you, Millie," he said, gently, smiling down into her brown eyes. "But – well, you know I went away last time with an idea that you didn't care to see me."
"Silly boy!" Her tone was gaily impersonal, but her red lips puckered into a pretty pout as she walked to a chair in the corner of the veranda and sat down.
"I thought that maybe you had returned to Mr. Thomas's office," he remarked, following her and standing beside her chair.
"No; I'm not going back, not now," said Millie, thoughtfully. She did not look up at him, but fixed her gaze on her hands, folded in her lap. "What a tremendous student you were in his office! I never saw any one work so hard as you did."
"Except when you were in the room – then I was looking at you, most of the time!" Marvin bent over her, but she gave no sign that she read his attitude.
"If you'd been looking at me, I'd have seen you." She smiled and raised her eyes. "You've not given up the study of law, have you?" There was concern in the lift of her brow.
"Oh no! But I'm not going back into Mr. Thomas's office. Why did you leave him, Millie? Was there any trouble?"
"Trouble? Of course not! How could any one have trouble with Mr. Thomas?" Surprise and annoyance stood in her eyes.
Marvin did not reply at once, but drew up another chair and sat down facing her. He leaned forward, his eyes searching hers as he questioned, "You like Mr. Thomas – like him very much, don't you, Millie?"
"I more than like him!" An angry color suffused her cheeks as she looked Marvin up and down. "I adore him!" she added. "You've no idea how fine he is!"
Marvin started at this – naturally. The situation was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated. Could it be that Millie was really in love with Raymond Thomas? Or had he merely convinced her that his business motives were all that they should be? Perhaps it was both! Anyway, it was obvious that the girl had Thomas up on some sort of pedestal; she was in a spunky mood, and Marvin saw that he was going to have his hands full trying to convince her that the feet on the pedestal were made of clay. Marvin flushed himself; he did not relish his position; he shrank from seemingly disparaging another man behind his back, especially to a girl. If there had been only himself to consider, he would not have spoken at all. Neither was it altogether for Millie's sake. She was young, capable, quick-witted; she would see through Thomas of her own accord, soon enough – if she were not actually in love with him! But Marvin was thinking of the old people, of hard-working, simple Mrs. Jones, and of amiable, careless Bill. Millie was the young, strong member of the Jones household, and it was Millie who must be convinced and won over, if possible. Thus ran Marvin's thoughts – but quite honestly he admitted to himself that his love for the girl might be coloring his logic and his motives just a little.
"I'd like to tell you something I know about Thomas – "
"Oh, I know!" Millie interrupted, quickly. "He sold some property for your mother, isn't that it?"
"Yes; he sold it to the railroad – for a big price."
"I know – he told me all about it. He's a splendid business man! Why, that's exactly what he is doing for us! Hasn't daddy told you about it?" She glanced at him quickly, but he gave no sign of having heard this wonderful news. "I should think you'd like to see Mr. Thomas. He's up-stairs packing, now. He's leaving this evening. He came all the way from San Francisco just to help me – to help us all!"
"To help you?" Marvin asked.
Millie clasped her hands over her knees and went on, enthusiastically: "Why, this hotel idea has turned out splendidly, you know. But a week or two ago, Mr. Thomas wrote to mother, saying that he had heard that the railroad company had got wind of our success and contemplated putting up a rival hotel just back of us. Mother was nearly crazy at the news, and I wrote to Mr. Thomas, asking him his advice. He telegraphed that he would be right out to see us! Wasn't that just like him?"
"Exactly," said Marvin, dryly. "And I presume that when Mr. Thomas arrived he suggested that you let him persuade the railroad to buy this place and erect the new hotel here, instead of next door!"
"Why, John – aren't you clever!" Millie exclaimed. "How did you guess it? That is exactly what he suggested, and now it's all arranged! And they're going to pay enough to make mother and daddy comfortable for the rest of their lives!"
With a hopeless gesture, Marvin got to his feet and took a pace or two up and down the veranda. The girl watched him, puzzled.
"Are they going to pay cash?" Marvin asked, pausing in front of her.
"It's much better than cash! It's shares of stock that pay ten per cent. a year! It seems almost too good to be true."
"It does – it certainly does!" came from Marvin.
The girl had risen, glowing with enthusiasm. Quite naturally she put her hand on his arm and looked up at him happily, intimately, naïvely seeking his approval.
In the midst of his perplexity Marvin's heart gave a bound. That naïve touch on his arm and the intimate light in the brown eyes told him that, in one respect at least, all was not lost – not yet! He was about to take her hands and break into a rush of words when the girl suddenly turned her attention from him, remarking, eagerly: "Here comes daddy. We were afraid he'd deserted again!"
Marvin swung around. Much as he wanted to see Lightnin' to-day, he wished, just then, that Bill could have seen fit to delay his appearance a few minutes longer. Bill Jones, however, came serenely up the steps and stood with his hands in his pockets, shrewdly and humorously inspecting the pair.
"Sorry to interrupt the billin' an' cooin'," he remarked. "But say, John, ain't you takin' some chances round here? Did you know that Blodgett's here? I seen him go up-stairs when I went out."
Millie had flushed and turned away at her foster-father's first words, but now she looked curiously from one to the other.
"What on earth do you mean, daddy?" she questioned.
"He's just helping me, Millie," said Marvin, grinning at Bill. "Thanks for the tip, Lightnin', but I wanted to see you particularly to-day, so I – "
He stopped abruptly, for Bill had raised a warning hand.
Marvin recognized a familiar voice talking in the lobby. Glancing in, he saw Raymond Thomas standing in the center of the room, holding Mrs. Jones in conversation. Hammond and Blodgett had just come down the stairs and were joining the other two.
"Better beat it, John!" Lightnin' whispered.
But Marvin stood there. He was thinking quickly. He had caught a word or two of what Thomas was saying, and he gathered that matters were coming to a climax. Suddenly his expression cleared and he grinned.
"Never mind about that, Lightnin'," he said, mechanically opening the door for Millie, who, seeing that they were ignoring her, tripped in with a petulant toss of her head. "I think I have a little scheme that will fool our friend Blodgett. But first – Bill, promise me that you won't sign that deed without consulting me!"