mosquito-doors and net-guarded windows, stood among low trees. Farther
back were four very small wooden churches. It was unpleasantly hot,
though a fresh breeze blew clouds of dust through the place.

"I've seen enough," said Edgar. "The Butte isn't pretty; we'll assume
it's prosperous, though I haven't noticed much sign of activity yet.
Let's go to the hotel."

When they reached it, several untidy loungers sat half asleep in the
shade of the veranda, and though they obstructed the approach to the
entrance none of them moved. Passing behind them, George opened a door
filled in with wire-mesh, and they entered a hot room with a bare
floor, furnished with a row of plain wooden chairs. After they had
rung a bell for several minutes, a man appeared and looked at them with
languid interest from behind a short counter.

"Can you put us up?" George inquired.

"Sure," was the answer.

The man flung down a labeled key, twisted round his register, which was
fitted in a swivel frame, and handed George a pen.

"We want two rooms," Edgar objected.

"Can't help that. We've only got one."

"I suppose we'd better take it. Where can one get a drink?"

"Bar," replied the other, indicating a gap in a neighboring partition.