Free Air - Page 97/176

Her father declined to go out to the lunch room. The chill of the late

ride was still on him, he croaked through his door; he was shivering; he

was going right to bed.

"Yes, do, dear. I'll bring you back a sandwich."

"Safe to go out alone?"

"Anything's safe after facing that horrible---- I do believe in witches,

now. Listen, dear; I'll bring you a hot-water bag."

She took the bag down to the office. The landlady was winding the clock,

while her husband yawned. She glared.

"I wonder if I may have some hot water for my father? He has a chill."

"Stove's out. No hot water in the house."

"Couldn't you heat some?"

"Now look here, miss. You come in here, asking for meals and rooms at

midnight, and you want a cut rate on everything, and I do what I can,

but enough's enough!"

The woman stalked out. Her husband popped up. "Mustn't mind the old

girl, lady. Got a grouch. Well, you can't blame her, in a way; when Bill

lit out, he done her out of four-bits! But I'll tell you!" he leered.

"You leave me the hot-water biznai, and I'll heat you some water

myself!"

"Thank you, but I won't trouble you. Good night."

Claire was surprised to find a warm, rather comfortable all-night lunch

room, called the Alaska Café, with a bright-eyed man of twenty-five in

charge. He nodded in a friendly way, and made haste with her order of

two ham-and-egg sandwiches. She felt adventurous. She polished her knife

and fork on a napkin, as she had seen people do in lunches along the

way. A crowd of three rubbed their noses against the front window to

stare at the strange girl in town, but she ignored them, and they

drifted away.

The lunchman was cordial: "At a hotel, ma'am? Which one? Gee, not the

Tavern?"

"Why yes. Is there another?"

"Sure. First-rate one, two blocks over, one up."

"The woman said the Tavern was the only hotel."

"Oh, she's an old sour-face. Don't mind her. Just bawl her out. What's

she charging you for a room?"

"Three dollars."

"Per each? Gee! Well, she sticks tourists anywheres from one buck to

three. Natives get by for fifty cents. She's pretty fierce, but she

ain't a patch on her husband. He comes from Spokane--nobody knows

why--guess he was run out. He takes some kind of dope, and he cheats at

rummy."

"But why does the town stand either of them? Why do you let them torture

innocent people? Why don't you put them in the insane hospital, where

they belong?"

"That's a good one!" her friend chuckled. But he saw it only as a joke.

She thought of moving her father to the good hotel, but she hadn't the

strength.