Lightnin'

But Margaret Davis, seeing no reason for shyness, just smiled graciously upon him and hastened to standardize her reputation. "Any one who has seen me dance can inform you about – well – about —them," she said seriously, adding by way of flavor to her remark another languishing droop of her eyelids. There was a moment of coy silence for the two of them. Then Mrs. Davis asked, "Are you stopping here for pleasure or are you doing time?"

"I'm a bachelor."

"How nice!" she replied, in honeyed accents, as she leaned toward him and put a soft hand on his arm. Undoubtedly in Lem Townsend she saw the possibility of an easy divorce trial. Besides, Townsend was by no means without personal attractions. Mrs. Davis gazed at him, her languishing smile concealing the feminine appraisal in her eyes. She decided to cultivate the possibility, and was about to say something in furtherance of her object when she was startled by a gentle voice coming from directly behind her and inquiring, pleasantly, "Rheumatism?"

Bill Jones had entered the lobby unobserved by the pair and was leaning over the desk idly, looking at his new guest with kindly interest. Townsend introduced Bill, and Mrs. Davis, with Lem's assistance, rose and took up a pen.

"No," she said; "I have not acquired rheumatism as yet, Mr. Jones. I'll register – you're reserving a room for me."

"How long you here for?" Bill asked.

"The usual," she sighed, and rolled her eyes toward Townsend.

"Eh?" Bill grinned and walked slowly from behind the desk.

"Six months," she drawled, wearily.

Politely staying her hand and taking the pen from her, Bill pointed to the other desk. "This is the six months' side – over here," he said, sauntering to the back of the Nevada desk.

When the lady was at last settled in her room, and Townsend had left – having made an arrangement to dine with Mrs. Davis that evening – Bill found himself strangely alone for the moment. Instantly he seized on the opportunity to make a thorough investigation into the mysterious disappearance of a half-filled flask. After turning the Nevada desk inside out, at last he was convinced that the disappearance was a fact and not a matter of imagination. "Guess mother has seequesterated it," he remarked, to himself. "Not that I'm hankerin' after it so much myself, but I told Zeb I had it, an' when he finds that I 'ain't, the moral effect on Zeb will sure be bad."

As Bill, rolling a cigarette, meditated on this, Mrs. Harper, followed by her maid and still casting about like a frightened bird in search of cover, tiptoed into the lobby, went uncertainly to the California desk and took up a pen.

Wisdom twitching at the corners of his mouth, Bill was beside her at once.

"Is either o' you ladies gettin' a divorce?" he inquired, in a helpful tone, his question including the indignant maid. "'Cause, if you are," he explained, "I just wanted to let you know that you are flockin' round the wrong desk."

Mrs. Harper fluttered some more. "Oh, I – er – but – where – "

"This way, my dears," Bill said, in a gentle, fatherly tone, as he led them to the Nevada desk.

Mrs. Harper signed her name. As Bill read it he looked up at her with sudden interest. He put a detaining hand on her arm before she could flutter away, and at the same time, turning to the maid, he directed her to have a chair for a moment – at the other side of the lobby, out of earshot.

When the maid had complied Bill looked down at the register. "Mrs. Harper, Truckee," he repeated. Then, glancing up at the surprised and startled little woman, he asked, "Does your husband happen to drive a green automobile, ma'am?"

Mrs. Harper stared at him with the big, frightened eyes of a child. "Why – er – yes. But – why do you ask?"

"I met him last night," said Bill. "He's a fast driver, ain't he? Gets to Truckee in two hours!"

The color rose to the little woman's face. "I don't see – "

"He's a mighty fine feller!" Bill went on, calmly. "Got a pile o' money, too, an' I bet he's some generous with it – specially to them what he loves. People is always makin' fool mistakes. Say, you ain't really goin' to git a divorce, are you?"

Now the astonished little woman's eyes filled with angry tears. "Oh!" she gasped. "Oh! How dare you speak to me like this! It's none of your business!"

"Sure it is," said Lightnin', his voice kindly, confidential. "I know all about it. He didn't git that present for his stenographer."

"How do you know?" she snapped.

"I heard him tellin' all about it to Marvin, the boy what sold him that timber up yonder. I knocked," Bill explained, whimsically, "but they didn't seem to hear, an' I was kinder forced to listen in from the outside. Your husband was all het up an' near committin' suicide 'cause you thought he done what he didn't. He told Marvin he bought that present for you when he was in Noo York. He was just a-showin' it to his office lady when you walked in."

"Nonsense!"

"No, it ain't. It's truth. There's some things I don't go wrong on, an' this is one, Mrs. Harper. Your husband's a mighty fine feller an' – "

With a stamp of her foot, the little woman flung away from the desk and, followed by the faithful maid, hurried up-stairs, where – and perhaps Bill suspected this – she buried her head in a pillow and cried and cried.

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!"

"All right," said Lightnin', slowly. "I promise. But you better be careful, John, an' – "

"Come on!" Marvin interrupted, leading the way himself. "I've a great desire to be in on these proceedings!"

Seeing that the young man was not to be stopped, Bill said no more as he slid through the door and ambled after him into the lobby.

CHAPTER IX

"I think it is only fair to tell you, Mrs. Jones," Thomas was saying, a delicate, apologetic note creeping into his voice as he caught sight of Millie, "that this Marvin is not a proper person for your daughter to see. I fully believed that he was a fine young man myself once, and you cannot imagine my surprise when I discovered that he is the head of a gang of thieves who are going all over this part of the country, stealing timber."

"Mercy me!" cried Mrs. Jones. "A thief, no less!" Then, seeing Marvin unexpectedly present in person, she glared at him. "Somethin' always warned me against you, John Marvin! Oh, Millie, Millie! How many times have I told you you was makin' a terrible mistake lettin' him annoy you!"

Millie was evidently too astonished and puzzled to say anything. Meanwhile, Thomas had flushed deeply on finding himself confronted by the man he was in the act of damning. Instinctively he took a step back. Blodgett made a quick move toward Marvin, but Hammond seized his arm and stopped him.

"Hold on a minute, Blodgett," he whispered. "You can nab him later – he can't very well get away from us now. I want to have a word, first – I'm going to show this young cub just where he stands!"

Meanwhile, though the sheriff's move did not escape him, Marvin, a grim smile on his face, was gazing steadily at Thomas.

"Go on, Thomas," he said, quietly. "I'm interested! What else were you going to say to Mrs. Jones?"

Indifferently he strolled over beside Lightnin', who was in front of the California desk, his hands in his pockets, his half-shut eyes roving from one to another of the group. To look at him, one would not imagine that Bill Jones had any special interest in the proceedings. He drew out his bag of tobacco and papers and idly rolled a cigarette.

Thomas, having regained his poise again, turned to Mrs. Jones with his dazzling smile. "I'm really very glad that the young man chanced to present himself at this moment, Mrs. Jones, because – "

"That's all right, Thomas!" Hammond interrupted, suddenly thrusting himself forward and waving the other aside. "But we have something much more important on hand. Let's get to it! I can't monkey around here any longer.

"Mrs. Jones," he went on, "I've been trying to get you all together before I left, but you seem such busy people that it is as if I wouldn't have this opportunity. I wanted to tell you that the company for which I am acting has just wired me to close the transaction, and so I am ready to take over the property at once!"

Mrs. Jones, bewildered by his briskness and the swift sequence of events, stared at him, then transferred a gaze no less confounded to Thomas. "You mean," she questioned, "that – that you want us to leave at once?"

"Oh no! That's not necessary. But now that you have put your signature to the deed, the transfer will be made at once and we'll take over the management, allowing you to remain on until you have made your arrangements for the future."

With a sharp nod to her and an insolent sneer directed at Bill, Hammond swung on his heel and busied himself with a portfolio of papers he had dropped on the Nevada desk.

"I'm sure you can have no objections to these arrangements, Mrs. Jones," said Thomas, his voice as smooth as glass, though there was a slight quiver of his eyelids as he avoided Marvin's steady gaze and caught a strange gleam that emanated from Bill's puckered-up eyes.

Mrs. Jones had forgotten all about Bill and his part in the signing of the deed. But a multitude of thoughts were running through her mind, confused as it was. All that she could think of now was the simplest answer to Thomas's question. She stepped up to him and put a hand of confidence on his arm.

"Certainly I do not mind," she said. "I'm delighted and relieved that it is all settled!" Turning to Hammond, she added: "I want to leave the whole matter in Mr. Thomas's hands. I'll do just as he advises."

"All right, Hammond," said Thomas, deliberately turning his back on old Bill. "We shall deliver the deed to you at once, and you can take charge of the place immediately. I presume you will want to have – "

"Hold on there, young feller!" Lightnin's usual lackadaisical monotone was raised to a degree which bespoke a greater interest than his careless attitude indicated. He stepped forward and stood in front of Thomas, looking up at him with his shrewd gaze. When he felt that the man was ready to give him sufficient attention, Bill returned to his customary drawl.

"We ain't goin' to sell this place, my boy," he said. "Not until I consult my lawyer!"

His words brought his wife to his side instantly, her eyes blazing. "Bill Jones," she cried, "you just be quiet! What in the world's the matter with you – tryin' to throw away a chance to be nice and comfortable the rest o' your life! Are you crazy?"

"Nope. I'm the only one that ain't – 'cept John, here."

Bill's steady, quiet grin exasperated Hammond and Thomas to white heat, but they were too near their goal to miss it by a step. They knew that under ordinary conditions Bill, in spite of his many shortcomings, held first place in Mrs. Jones's affections, and that any show of harshness toward him on their part might rally her unexpectedly to his support. So they smothered their rage. Hammond leaned an elbow on the desk and nonchalantly twirled his watch-chain, his mouth drawn into an ugly sneer. Thomas continued his air of deference toward Mrs. Jones, leaning over her with an appealing smile. Reacting to it, she took Bill by the arm and shook it roughly.

"You just got to listen to reason, Bill!" she said, transfixing him with angry eyes. "I set my heart on sellin' the place an' goin' to the city, as you oughter know by now. An', besides, it's 'most all fixed up, anyways – all but you signin' that deed. You got to do it, Bill!"

"You're all het up, mother," replied Bill, gazing at her with kindly eyes. "Ease up a bit! Nope. I ain't goin' to sign no deed for them two scamps – leastways not until I consult my lawyer!" And Bill pushed back his battered slouch-hat and stuck his thumbs in his faded vest.

"Scamps – !"

But before Mrs. Jones could complete her sentence Marvin stepped forward and put a friendly arm over Bill's shoulder.

"Bill's right, Mrs. Jones," he said, gently, though there was a fighting light in his eyes as he met those of Thomas. "Lightnin' has no need to apologize for anything he may say about these two men. This sale is a nice little scheme of theirs. They are trying to rob you."

Millie, who had been listening to it all, amazed and abashed, now stared at Marvin defiantly. "How dare you say that?" she blazed. "What right have you to interfere?" She rallied to Mrs. Jones's side and placed an affectionate arm around her waist.

Mrs. Jones was crying by this time. She wiped her eyes on her apron and looked at Marvin. "So it's you who's been puttin' Bill up to this!" she exclaimed. "I might have known – it's right in line with what we just heard about you! Well, he don't need none o' your advice – you just leave Bill alone!"

Marvin held out a deprecating hand. "But, Mrs. Jones, you don't understand – "

Blodgett, at a sign from Hammond, strode up to Marvin and put a hand on his shoulder. Marvin shook him off.

"Don't interrupt me now!" he said. "I've something more important to – "

"I'll show you how important it is!" said Blodgett, jingling a pair of handcuffs in front of Marvin. "I got a warrant for your arrest for stealin' timber! Put out your hands!"

Mrs. Jones and Millie stood by, bewildered, while Thomas, with supercilious satisfaction in his smile, sank into a chair and crossed his legs with an air. Hammond laughed coarsely.

Bill, his arm drawn through Marvin's, looked on, his enigmatic grin between his half-closed eyes and half-open mouth betokening an unswerving confidence in the ultimate.

"I can't be bothered with you now," said Marvin, addressing Blodgett. "Bill needs – "

"None o' your lip!" Blodgett grabbed him roughly and attempted to place a handcuff on one of his wrists, but Marvin flung him off and the sheriff went sprawling. Marvin stepped back a pace or two as Blodgett got up and came at him again, bawling, "Now you're worse off than ever – resisting an officer of the law!"

Marvin, however, did not seem to be worried. He faced Blodgett with an amused smile and pointed to the floor, where an uncovered space left between two rugs indicated the now famous state line.