The Grub-and-Stakers Spin a Yarn by Charlotte MacLeod Read Free Book Online

said Glanville.
    “Been disappointed if we hadn’t seen them,” said Ranville.
    “Out here in the wild west,” said Glanville.
    “Where men are men,” said Ranville.
    “Desperadoes and shoot-outs,” said Glanville.
    “All sorts of things,” said Ranville.
    “Part of the scene,” said Glanville.
    “Rather thrilling, actually,” said Ranville.
    “Makes us feel we’ve really arrived,” said Glanville.
    “Boring for you people, I suppose,” said Ranville.
    “Monotonous after a while, no doubt,” said Glanville.
    “Doesn’t interfere with the social life, I hope?” said Ranville.
    “Lively around here, is it?” said Glanville.
    “Necktie parties and all that?” said Ranville.
    “Oh yes,” said Osbert. “Once a month or so we clean out the desperadoes and start over. Feel up to some dessert, darling? Or perhaps a shot of red-eye?”
    “Just tea, please,” said Dittany. “Darling, I think the joint’s being raided.”
    Eyes that had been riveted on the Bleinkinsop twins suddenly were turning toward the doorway. Now that the inn had turned respectable, it had become an unusual occurrence to see a uniformed policeman on the premises; but there all at once stood Officer Bob, checking out the assemblage table by table. When he spied Osbert, he made a beeline, saluting smartly as he reached his goal.
    “Sorry to bother you while you’re eating your dinner, Deputy Monk, but the chief says could you report back to the station right away on a matter of urgent official business?”
    “By George, Glan,” cried Ranville, “did you hear that? Lex Laramie is a man behind the badge.”
    “By George, Ran, this is exciting,” cried Glanville. “Just think, our first real genuine wild west deputy!”
    “And here we’ve been sitting all this time,” said Ranville.
    “Not realizing,” said Glanville.
    “Without the slightest inkling,” said Ranville.
    “Totally unaware,” said Glanville.
    “Well, folks, I’d better mosey along,” said Osbert, tossing money on the table lest the twins think he was trying to stick them with the check. “Do you want to stay and drink your tea, Dittany gal, or would you rather come with me?”
    Dittany at once began struggling out of her chair. “I’ll come with you and mooch a cup from Mrs. MacVicar at the public expense. She promised to show me the latest photographs of her newest grandson. He’s got a tooth, you’ll all be thrilled to know.”
    “Oh, jolly good,” said Glanville.
    “Snappish little blighter, is he?” said Ranville.
    “We take our excitement where we can get it around here.” Dittany was beginning to find Ranville and Glanville a trifle repetitious. “It’s been lovely meeting you, and I do hope you enjoy your stay in Lobelia Falls. We’ll be seeing you again, no doubt.”
    For tea in her own parlor this afternoon if Dittany knew her mother’s penchant for hospitality, which she certainly did. Why couldn’t those two—if in fact they counted as two, as she didn’t see why they shouldn’t since they obviously were—have stayed and helped Cousin Prudence in the shop instead of stravaging around picking up acquaintances among the local celebrities? That would have given them an interesting opportunity to work out a new set of operational logistics; whereas if they were planning to hang out with Arethusa and Clorinda, anything to do with logic in any form simply wouldn’t enter in.
    Dittany took Osbert’s arm and resigned herself to running the gauntlet of wondering eyes as they left the dining room. “I wonder what Sergeant MacVicar wants you for in such a hurry?”
    “Either he’s got some new information on the shootout,” Osbert guessed, “or else they’re having another grand free-for-all over at the yarn shop and he needs me to answer the telephone again while he’s out quelling.”
    “Mrs. MacVicar could perfectly well answer the phone,” Dittany objected. “She does it all the time.”
    “Then it must be about