"All right," replied Mr. Bland, "I thought I'd pass you the tip, that's all. It ain't nothing to me what you do. But it's all over, and you've lost out. I'm sorry you have—but I take Hayden's orders."
"Damn Hayden!" snarled the mayor. "It was his idea to make a three-act play out of this thing. He's responsible for this silly trip to Baldpate. This audience we've been acting for—he let us in for them."
"I know," said Bland. "But you can't deny that Baldpate Inn looked like the ideal spot at first. Secluded, off the beaten path, you know, and all that."
"Yes," sneered the mayor, "as secluded as a Sunday-school the Sunday before Christmas."
"Well, who could have guessed it?" went on Mr. Bland. "As I say, I don't care what you do. I just passed you the tip. I've got that nice little package of the long green—I've got it where you'll never find it Yes, sir, it's returned to the loving hands of little Joe Bland, that brought it here first. It ain't going to roam no more. So what's the use of your sticking around?"
