Part 2 (2/2)
”But no, _ao_ It is as I tell you One osh!+ I'll say it does Sounds like a Sat'day night row in a Second Av'noo saloon, except there ain't no shootin' Guess you boys have soht life, too, even if ye are away back in the bush”
”Tihed Knowlton ”It'll be dark in no tie moved to the hotel?”
”_Si_, senhor _Ie--Rosario! And you, too, Meldo--_veentlemen to the hotel, presto! Proceed, senhores I, Joao d'Alalhaes Nabuco Pestana da Fonseca, will reuard until all your possessions have been transported Proceed without fear”
CHAPTER III
THE VOICE OF THE WILDS
McKay, eyes twinkling again, awaited theood, Rod?” hailed Knowlton
”Best in the house, Merry”
”See any insects in the beds?”
”Nary a bug--in the beds” The twinkle grew ”Didn't look in the bureaus or behind thea sizable roo--for its chief articles of furniture were two tables made from planed palm trunks--McKay waved a hand toward a row of four doorways on the right
”First three are ours,” he explained ”Only vacancies here Eight rooms in this hotel--the other four over there” He pointed across the room, on the other side of which opened four similar doors ”They're occupied by two sick oat which is kidding”
”Huh?” Tim snorted, suspiciously ”I think ye're the one that's kiddin', Cap”
”Not a bit I looked The last room on this side is the Dutchman's, and these are ours Take your pick They're all alike”
Knowlton stepped to the nearest and looked in For a moment he said no word Then he softly led!”
”Me, too,” seconded Ti his neck
The roo--nothing at all was in it except two iron hooks Its floor consisted of split pals, round side up, bethich opened inch-wide spaces Its walls were rusty corrugated iron, guiltless of mirrors or pictures, which did not reach to the roof
”Observe the excellent ventilation,” grinned McKay ”Wind blows up through the floor--if there is any wind--and then loops over the partition into the next fellow's roouy that drops his collar button is out o' luck
It goes plunk into the mud, seven foot down under the house But say, Cap, how the heck do we sleep? Hang ourselves up on theh on a feller's shi+rt, ain't it? And the shi+rt would likely pull off over yer head before mornin'”
”Yes, probably would But the secret is this--you're supposed to hang your hammock on those hooks You provide the hammock The hotel provides the hooks What uy wants a bath, there's the river, all full o' 'gators and cattawarub and pay for eatin' it off that slab table there There's jest one thing ye can say for this dump--a feller can spit on the floor But with all theht not hit it, at that Mother of ht stayin' in a hole like this, along o' drunks and skiddin' she-goats and--did ye say a Dutchman?”
”German Chap named Schwandorf”