Page:Frank Spearman--Whispering Smith.djvu/221



ILL you never be done with your telephoning?” asked Marion. McCloud was still planning the assembling of the men and teams for the morning. Breakfast and transportation were to be arranged for, and the men and teams and material were to be selected from where they could best be spared. Dicksie, with the fingers of one hand moving softly over the telegraph key, sat on a box listening to McCloud’s conferences and orders.

“Cherry says everything is served. Isn’t it, Cherry?” Marion called to the Japanese boy.

Cherry laughed with a guttural joy.

“We are ready for it,” announced McCloud, rising. “How are we to sit?”

“You are to sit at the head of your own table,” said Marion. “I serve the coffee, so I sit at the foot; and Mr. Smith may pass the beans over there, and Dicksie, you are to pour the condensed milk into the cups.” 197