It was blazoned in his face, in the hungry, seeking look of his eyes--in the heavy pouches and thick crinkles of his neck and cheeks.

For once Bill Quade himself was at a loss.
"I understand that you have rooms for rent," she said unemotionally.

"May I hire one until the train leaves for Tete Jaune Cache ?" The listeners behind her stiffened and leaned forward.

One of them grinned at Quade.

This gave him the confidence he needed to offset the fearless questioning in the blue eyes.