Two minutes later some one came stamping along the corridor of the town house.  The office door was ajar, and this some one pushed it open with his foot.

It was Landlord Ferd Parrott.  In one hand he carried an old glazed valise, in the other a canvas extension-case, this reduplication of baggage indicating a serious intention on the part of Mr. Parrott to travel far and remain long.  His visage was sullen and the set of his jaws was ugly.  Mr. Parrott had eyes that turned out from his nose, and though the Cap’n and Hiram were on opposite sides of the room it seemed as though his peculiar vision enabled him to fix an eye on each at the same time.

“I’m glad I found you here both together,” he snarled.  “I can tell you both at one whack.  I ain’t got northin’ against you.  You’ve used me like gents.  I don’t mean to dump you, nor northin’ of the sort, but there ain’t anything I can seem to do.  You take what there is—­this here is all that belongs to me.”  He shook the valises at them.  “I’m goin’ to git out of this God-forsaken town—­I’m goin’ now, and I’m goin’ strong, and you’re welcome to all I leave, just as I leave it.  For the first time in my life I’m glad I’m a widderer.”

After gazing at Mr. Parrott for a little time the Cap’n and Hiram searched each the other’s face with much interest.  It was apparent that perfect confidence did not exist between them on some matters that were to the fore just then.

“Yours,” said Mr. Parrott, jerking a stiff nod to the Cap’n, “is a morgidge on house and stable and land.  Yours,” he continued, with another nod at Hiram, “is a bill o’ sale of all the furniture, dishes, liv’ry critters and stable outfit.  Take it all and git what you can out of it.”

“This ain’t no way to do—­skip out like this,” objected Hiram.

“Well, it’s my way,” replied Mr. Parrott, stubbornly, “and, seein’ that you’ve got security and all there is, I don’t believe you can stop me.”

Mr. Parrott dropped his valises and whacked his fists together.

“If the citizens of this place don’t want a hotel they needn’t have a hotel,” he shrilled.  “If they want to turn wimmen loose on me to run me up a tree, by hossomy!  I’ll pull the tree up after me.”

“Look here, Ferd,” said the Cap’n, eagerly, forgetting for the moment the presence of Constable Nute, “those wimmen might gabble a little at you and make threats and things like that—­but—­but—­there isn’t anything they can do, you understand!” He winked at Mr. Parrott.  “You know what I told you!”

But Mr. Parrott was in no way swayed or mollified.