Harling had known d'Arnault for years. She
told Antonia she had better go to see Tiny that
Saturday evening, as there would certainly be
music at the Boys' Home.

Saturday night after supper I ran downtown
to the hotel and slipped quietly into the parlor.
The chairs and sofas were already occupied,
and the air smelled pleasantly of cigar smoke.
The parlor had once been two rooms, and the
floor was sway-backed where the partition
had been cut away. The wind from without
made waves in the long carpet. A coal stove
glowed at either end of the room, and the
grand piano in the middle stood open.

There was an atmosphere of unusual freedom
about the house that night, for Mrs. Gardener
had gone to Omaha for a week. Johnnie had
been having drinks with the guests until he was
rather absent-minded. It was Mrs. Gardener
who ran the business and looked after every-
thing. Her husband stood at the desk and
welcomed incoming travelers. He was a pop-
ular fellow, but no manager.

Mrs. Gardener was admittedly the best-
dressed woman in Black Hawk, drove the best
horse, and had a smart trap and a little white-
and-gold sleigh. She seemed indifferent to her

[[207]]

p206 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p207w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p208

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