The downpour was increasing and the air had become so chilly that Harvey passed inside to the sitting-room. The same number of men were present as before, smoking, chewing and gossiping. He glanced into their countenances, as he moved his chair beside the sleeping Bohunkus Johnson, prepared to pass the dismal hours as best he could without finding any reading matter in the form of books or newspapers. He had registered before dinner and engaged a room for himself and another for his companion. His letters were given to the landlord, who promised to send them to the post office in time for the afternoon’s mail.
Somehow or other, there was one man among the group in whom Harvey felt a slight interest, though he attributed the fact to the lack of anything else to engage his mind. This individual was standing at the desk, when Harvey came from the outside, studying the dog-eared register, as if he too was guided by some idle impulse. He glanced at the newcomer and followed him into the larger room, where he lighted a cigar and took a seat against the other wall.
He was of slight frame, in middle life, dressed in a gray business suit, with clean shaven face, a thin sharp nose, good teeth and keen blue eyes. He was alert of manner, and might well have been a drummer held in town for a brief while against his will. When Harvey glanced at him again he quickly averted his eyes. Apparently he did not wish to be detected in the act and he came within a hair of succeeding in his attempt. He gazed in an absent way through the door leading to the bar-room and smoked his cigar like a man who thoroughly enjoyed the weed.
Being in an idle mood, Harvey twisted the corner of his handkerchief into a tight spiral, making the end quite stiff and pointed, and, leaning forward, began drawing it back and forth against the base of the sleeping Bohunkus Johnson’s nose. Immediately every other person in the room began watching the proceedings.
For a little while the negro slept on undisturbed. Then he suddenly crinkled his broad, flat nose and flipped his hand at the fly or mosquito that was supposed to be tickling him. The spectators grinned, and Harvey waited till Bunk was slumbering as heavily as before. Then he resumed his role of Tantalus. This time he tickled so energetically that Bunk struck impatiently at his tormentor and banged the top of the chair a vigorous blow—so vigorous indeed that several of the men snickered and the dusky youth opened his eyes and raised his head, as wide awake as ever in his life.
