“Thank you,” Scott said, “I appreciate your advice and shall try to keep out of trouble.”
The quiet answer which showed neither boastfulness nor a willingness to be walked over seemed to please the supervisor. “Good,” he exclaimed, “now I’ll take you over to the hotel and you can get some supper and a little rest. To-morrow we’ll get you outfitted, and the next day I’ll take you out to your headquarters and show you around a little.”
Mr. Ramsey introduced Scott to the clerk, Mr. Benson. The clerk shook hands grouchily, and Scott understood that his reports and expense accounts would have to be flawless if they were to get by this man who seemed to have conceived a violent dislike for him at first sight. If he could have seen him a few minutes before listening at the keyhole he would have been even more certain of it.
The supervisor led the way up the street to a very comfortable looking up-to-date hotel. Nearly every one spoke pleasantly to the supervisor but looked Scott over with a rather amused and condescending smile. One man especially, whom they passed just outside of the hotel, stared at Scott with a malicious sneer of contempt that was hard to overlook; nor did he make any pretense of speaking to Mr. Ramsey.
In the hotel Scott was introduced to Mr. McGoorty, the proprietor. “Put him in the boys’ room, McGoorty,” the supervisor explained. “He is one of the new patrolmen and will probably be in from time to time like the rest of them. Well, so long, Burton. McGoorty will take care of you. Come over in the morning at about eight.”
At the door he turned back suddenly and spoke to Scott aside. “Did you notice that sour looking fellow just outside?”
“Don’t do it. That is Jed Clark, the worst sheep man in the country. He is probably in town now to size you up. He seems to get all the news somehow. Don’t mix with him, no matter what happens.”
Scott was not sure that he could resist it if he had another of those sneering looks, and as he went up to his room he heard several uncomplimentary remarks which made his blood boil. “These Westerners may be hospitable and warm hearted,” he muttered to himself, “but they have a mighty peculiar way of showing it.”
Scott came down to breakfast early. He wanted to be on time at the office, but his real reason was to try to dodge some of his numerous critics. He was only partially successful, for there were several others in the dining room, and he caught scraps of conversation followed by loud laughs which were so evidently meant for his ears that it was hard to ignore them. He was almost at the end of his patience, and was glad when the time came to go to the office.