Here, too, his old Virginian ideas of hospitality were against his
financial success; he could not dun nor turn from his door those
unfortunate prospectors whom the ebbing fortunes of Buena Vista had left
stranded by his side.
Colonel Swinger was sitting in a wicker-work rocking-chair on the
veranda of his hotel--sipping a mint julep which he held in his hand,
while he gazed into the dusty distance. Nothing could have convinced him
that he was not performing a serious part of his duty as hotel-keeper
in this attitude, even though there were no travelers expected, and the
road at this hour of the day was deserted. On a bench at his side Larry
Hawkins stretched his lazy length,--one foot dropped on the veranda,
and one arm occasionally groping under the bench for his own tumbler
of refreshment. Apart from this community of occupation, there was
apparently no interchange of sentiment between the pair. The silence
had continued for some moments, when the colonel put down his glass and
gazed earnestly into the distance.
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