The Boy from the Ranch Part 16

CHAPTER XIII

A VISIT TO MR. ANNISTER

Roy turned and looked at the boy who had made the somewhat insulting remark.

"I beg your pardon, stranger," he replied in his western drawl. "I didn't quite catch your remark."

"Aw, come off!" slangily replied the bra.s.s-b.u.t.toned boy, one of many in the hotel employed to show guests to their rooms whenever summoned by a bell rung by the clerk. "What are you, anyhow? Selling patent medicine or some Indian cure?" For Roy plainly showed the effect of his western life, his hair being a little longer than it is worn in the east, his clothes rather too large for him, and his broad-brimmed hat quite conspicuous.

"So you think I'm rustling medicine, eh?" he asked the boy.

"I don't know what you're 'rustling' but I know if you try to sell anything in this joint, you'll get the poke, see!"

Roy began to think the language of the East was almost as effective as that of the West in expressing ideas.

"I'm not selling medicine, stranger," Roy went on, using the term he had picked up among the cowboys when they meet one whom they do not know. "I'm going to put up at this bunk-house, I reckon."

"That's a good one!" exclaimed the boy with a laugh. "What Wild West show are you from? This is no theatrical boarding house. Better beat it out of here before the clerk sees you."

But the talk between the two boys had been overheard by the clerk, who, in a hotel, holds authority next to the owner.

"What's the trouble there, Number twenty-six?" he asked, addressing the bell boy.

"Aw, here's a guy what t'inks he's goin' to stay here an' sell patent medicines," replied the boy.

"What's that? Of course we don't allow any peddling schemes in the hotel. Send him out."

"I did, but he won't go."

"Your boy is mistaken, stranger," replied Roy, walking up to the desk, and looking around for Mortimer De Royster, who, it seemed, had been delayed in speaking to a friend. Several men in the hotel lobby drew near and listened with interest to what was going on. "I came here to put up at this hotel," went on Roy. "I was sent here by a friend of mine."

"We don't take theatrical people," said the clerk, stiffly.

"I'm not from a theatre. I tell you my friend sent me here. He'll be here himself in a minute."

The clerk did not look very much impressed, and Roy feared he was going to order him out of the hotel. The boy did not want to be thus publicly put to shame.

"Who's your friend?" asked the clerk.

"Mr. Mortimer De Royster."

"Oh, that's all right!" exclaimed the clerk with a great change of manner. "Any friend of Mr. De Royster is welcome. Boy, take the gentleman's grip. What sort of a room would you like?"

The bell boy, who had thought to put Roy out of the place, was obliged much against his will to take his valise.

"That's all right," said Roy good-naturedly to the boy. "I can carry my baggage. It isn't heavy. I don't know that I'm going to stop here after all. I think--"

Just then De Royster came pus.h.i.+ng his way through the little crowd about the desk.

"h.e.l.lo, Charlie!" he exclaimed, addressing the clerk. "How are you, old chap? Looking fine, upon my word!"

"Good afternoon, Mr. De Royster," replied the clerk cordially, extending his hand. "Glad to see you. So you're back from your trip?"

"Yes, but I came pretty near not coming. Might not be alive if it wasn't for my friend, Mr. Bradner, here. By the way, I want you to give him the best in the house. He's a great friend of mine. Treat him well."

"Of course we shall. We were just going to give him a good room--er--ahem, Mr. Bradner, will you please register?" and he swung the book around on the desk, dipping a pen in an ink bottle at the same time.

Roy hesitated, and smiled just a little. He was contrasting the treatment he might have received if Mr. De Royster had not been there.

"What's the matter?" asked the jewelry salesman, seeing that something unusual had taken place.

"Oh, nothing much," replied Roy. "They took me for a member of a Wild West show, I guess, and they were a little doubtful whether they'd let me bunk here or not."

"Ahem! All a mistake! It was the bell boy's fault," said the clerk, somewhat embarra.s.sed.

"Here, Number twenty-six, take the gentleman's grip. Any friend of yours, Mr. De Royster, is doubly welcome here. We can give you a fine room, Mr. Bradner."

"All right," replied Roy, good naturedly. "I'll take one."

"I'll select it for you," put in Mr. De Royster, as he was in some doubt as to Roy's finances, and he did not want to take too extravagant an apartment.

Roy was soon shown to a pleasant room, Mortimer accompanying him.

Every one connected with the hotel seemed anxious to aid the boy from the ranch, now that it was shown he had wealthy friends. Roy thought De Royster must be a person of some influence. He was partly right, though the influence came more from the rich and respected relatives of the young jewelry salesman, than from himself. However, it answered the same purpose.

"I am sorry you were annoyed by that clerk, my dear chap," said De Royster, when he was seated in the room he had selected for Roy. "I was unavoidably detained, speaking to a friend I met, don't you know."

"It's all right," replied Roy. "It all adds to my experience, and I expect to get a lot of it while I'm in the East."

"What are your next plans?"

"Well, I hardly know. I have certain business to do for my father, but I hardly know how to set about it."

"Perhaps I can tell you."

"I wish you could."

"If it is a secret don't tell me," said De Royster, noting that Roy hesitated.

"It is a sort of a secret mission. I'm here to round up a man, and see what sort of branding marks he has on him--that is, whether he's honest or not."

"That is a queer mission for a boy like you to be sent on."

"Perhaps, but my father had no one else. I will tell you as much as I can, and see what you have to say."

Thereupon Roy told his friend about the real estate matter, and Mr.

Annister's connection with it, though he mentioned no names.