sleeping don't make a hit. I haven't had a decent night's rest for
three nights. I never could sleep on a sleeper. Can't you fix us up
better than that?"

"Best I can do."

"But where's mother going? I see you advertise three 'large and
commodious steam-heated sample rooms in connection.' I suppose
mother's due to sleep on one of the tables there."

"Jock," Emma McChesney reproved him, "Mr. Sims is doing us a great
favor. There isn't another hotel in town that would--"

"You're right, there isn't," agreed Mr. Sims. "I guess the young man
is new to this traveling game. As I said, I'd like to accommodate you,
but--Let's see now. Tell you what I'll do. If I can get the
housekeeper to go over and sleep in the maids' quarters just for to-
night, you can use her room. There you are! Of course, it's over the
kitchen, and there may be some little noise early in the morning--"

Emma McChesney raised a protesting hand. "Don't mention it. Just lead
me thither. I'm so tired I could sleep in an excursion special that
was switching at Pittsburgh. Jock, me child, we're in luck. That's
twice in the same place. The first time was when we were inspired to
eat our supper on the diner instead of waiting until we reached here
to take the leftovers from the Bisons' grazing. I hope that
housekeeper hasn't a picture of her departed husband dangling, life-
size, on the wall at the foot of the bed. But they always have. Good-
night, son. Don't let the Bisons bite you. I'll be up at seven."