Page:Stewart Edward White--The Rose Dawn.djvu/65

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
THE ROSE DAWN
53

"Lemme tell you, he don't have to advertise this hotel. Why should he? There's no competition."

"There's the San Antonio down the street."

"Colonel Peyton owns that, too."

"Then why the hell all this monkey-doodle business?"

"Because he likes it. If you can understand that!"

The tourist turned to survey the last speaker, the indignant waitress.

"Hullo, sister," he said coolly. "Who let you in this?"

About half past eight the rush slackened and the Colonel, glowing with delight, was enabled to return to the table where Daphne sat and finish his breakfast.

"I tell you, Puss," he cried, "where would they find another place in the world with a sun and sky like this! Think of it back East where they came from! Snow, ice, wind! Cannot understand why anybody should want to live there."

Truth to tell a good many of his guests were beginning vaguely to wonder about that themselves, and other hotel men's guests all over Southern California. Railroad travel across the plains was still a good deal of an adventure, nor to be lightly undertaken. People settled down for a week. They got acquainted with everybody else on the train, and visited back and forth, and even got up charades and entertainments. Every party had an elaborate hamper with tin compartments in which was great store of bread and rolls and chicken and other delicacies. Three or four times a day the tram stopped out in the middle of nowhere and the passengers ran about the landscape to get the kinks out of their legs. At the end of a half hour the whistle was blown summoning them back. Buffalo were still to be seen in great numbers—indeed, not infrequently the engine had to stop to let herds of them across the tracks—and other wild animals, and wilder men. After the long, strange cold journey the tepid air, smiling landscape, and brooding mountains of California were inexpressibly grateful. The newcomer saw oranges for the first time—and was invited in to pick all he wanted to eat; and free flowers anywhere for the asking; and interestingly strange orientals. He looked out in the freshness of morning on a riot of white roses climbing over the roof below