ot-water bag had relieved his
chill-pinched back; she kissed him boisterously, and started for her own
room, at the far end of the hall.

The lights were off. She had to feel her way, and she hesitated at the
door of her room before she entered. She imagined voices, creeping
footsteps, people watching her from a distance. She flung into the
room, and when the kindled lamp showed her familiar traveling bag, she
felt safer. But once she was in bed, with the sheet down as far as
possible over the loathly red comforter, the quiet rustled and snapped
about her, and she could not relax. Sinking into sleep seemed slipping
into danger, and a dozen times she started awake.

But only slowly did she admit to herself that she actually did hear a
fumbling, hear the knob of her door turning.

"W-who's there?"

"It's me, lady. The landlord. Brought you the hot water."

"Thanks so much, but I don't need it now."

"Got something else for you. Come to the door. Don't want to holler and
wake ev'body up."

At the door she said timorously, "Nothing else I want, thank you.
D-don't bother me."

"Why, I've brought you up a sandwich, girlie, all nice and hot, and a
nip of something to take the chill off."

"I don't want it, I tell you!"

"Be a sport now! You use Pete right, and he'll use you right. Shame to
see a lady like you not gettin' no service here. Open the door. Dandy
sandwich!" The knob rattled again. She said nothing. The heel of her
palm pressed against the door till the molding ate into it. The man was
snorting:

"I ain't going to all this trouble and then throw away a good sandwich.
You asked me----"

"M-must I s-shout?"

"S-shout your fool head off!" He kicked the door. "Good friends of mine,
'long this end of the hall. Aw, listen. Just teasing. I'm not going to
rob you, little honey bird. Laws, you could have a million dollars, and
old Pete wouldn't take two-bits. I just get so darn lonely in this hick
town. Like to chat to live ones from the big burg. I'm a city fella
myself--Spokane and Cheyenne and everything."

In her bare feet, Claire had run across the room, looked desperately out
of the window. Could she climb out, reach her friend of the Alaska Cafe?
If she had to----

Then she grinned. The world was rose-colored and hung with tinkling
bells. "I love even that Pinky person!" she said. In the yard of the
hotel, beside her Gomez, was a Teal bug, and two men were sleeping in
blankets on the ground.

Sh