"
"But"--protested Demorest.
"Nonsense!" said Stacy, dragging him away. "We'll pay for it; and I
reckon the old lady won't object to taking her share of the damage
either, or she isn't Van Loo's mother. Come."
Demorest felt himself hurried forward by the energetic Stacy, preceded
by the obsequious manager, through a corridor to a handsomely furnished
suite, into whose bathroom Stacy incontinently thrust him.
"There! Wash up; and by the time you're ready Barker ought to be back,
and we'll have supper. It's waiting for us in the other room."
"But how about Barker, the dear boy?" persisted Demorest, holding open
the door. "Tell me, is he well and happy?"
"About as well as we all are," said Stacy quickly, yet with a certain
dry significance. "Never mind now; wait until you see him."
The door closed. When Demorest had finished washing, and wiped away the
last red stain of the mountain road, he found Stacy seated by the window
of the larger sitting-room. In the centre a table was spread for supper.
A bright fire of hickory logs burnt on a marble hearth between two
large windows that gave upon the distant outline of Black Spur. As Stacy
turned towards him, by the light of the shaded lamp and flickering fire,
Demorest had a good look at the face of his old friend and partner. It
was as keen and energetic as ever, with perhaps an even more hawk-like
activity visible in the eye and nostril; but it was more thoughtful and
reticent in the lines of the mouth under the closely clipped beard and
mustache, and when he looked up, at first there were two deep lines or
furrows across his low broad forehead.
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