"Is this a hotel?" she queried, brusquely.
The shirt-sleeved individual leisurely turned and replied, "Yes, ma'am."
And Carley said: "No one would recognize it by the courtesy shown. I
have been standing here waiting to register."
With the same leisurely case and a cool, laconic stare the clerk turned
the book toward her. "Reckon people round here ask for what they want."
Carley made no further comment. She assuredly recognized that what she
had been accustomed to could not be expected out here. What she most
wished to do at the moment was to get close to the big open grate where
a cheery red-and-gold fire cracked. It was necessary, however, to follow
the clerk. He assigned her to a small drab room which contained a bed,
a bureau, and a stationary washstand with one spigot. There was also a
chair. While Carley removed her coat and hat the clerk went downstairs
for the rest of her luggage. Upon his return Carley learned that a stage
left the hotel for Oak Creek Canyon at nine o'clock next morning. And
this cheered her so much that she faced the strange sense of loneliness
and discomfort with something of fortitude. There was no heat in the
room, and no hot water. When Carley squeezed the spigot handle there
burst forth a torrent of water that spouted up out of the washbasin to
deluge her. It was colder than any ice water she had ever felt. It was
piercingly cold. Hard upon the surprise and shock Carley suffered a
flash of temper. But then the humor of it struck her and she had to
laugh.
"Serves you right--you spoiled doll of luxury!" she mocked. "This is out
West. Shiver and wait on yourself!"
Never before had she undressed so swiftly nor felt grateful for thick
woollen blankets on a hard bed. Gradually she grew warm. The blackness,
too, seemed rather comforting.
"I'm only twenty miles from Glenn," she whispered. "How strange! I
wonder will he be glad." She felt a sweet, glowing assurance of that.
Sleep did not come readily. Excitement had laid hold of her nerves, and
for a long time she lay awake. After a while the chug of motor cars, the
click of pool balls, the murmur of low voices all ceased. Then she heard
a sound of wind outside, an intermittent, low moaning, new to her ears,
and somehow pleasant. Another sound greeted her--the musical clanging
of a clock that struck the quarters of the hour. Some time late sleep
claimed her.