"Come on in, Smoke," he greeted. "Breakfast's ready. Who-all are your friends?"
Smoke turned about on the threshold. "Well, good-night, you fellows. Hope you enjoyed your pasear!"
"Hold on a moment, Smoke," Bill Saltman cried, his voice keen with disappointment. "Want to talk with you a moment."
"Fire away," Smoke answered genially.
"What'd you pay old Sanderson twenty-five thousan' for? Will you answer that?"
"Bill, you give me a pain," was Smoke's reply. "I came over here for a country residence, so to say, and here are you and a g**g trying to cross-examine me when I'm looking for peace an' quietness an' breakfast. What's a country residence good for, except for peace and quietness?"
"You ain't answered the question," Bill Saltman came back with rigid logic.
"And I'm not going to
