O make a noise," said Ashton-Kirk. And with that he stalked down the
hall, his heels clattering on the bare boards. "Hello," he cried
loudly. "Sams is wanted! Hello, Sams!" A door opened, and a face
covered
with thick soap suds and surmounted by a tangle of
sandy hair looked out. "Hello," growled this person, huskily. "Who
wants
him?" "Very glad to see you, Mr. Sams," said Ashton-Kirk. "We have a
small matter of business with you that will require a few moments of
your time. May we come in?" "Sure," said Sams. They entered the room,
which contained a bed, a trunk, a wash-stand, and a chair. "One of you
can take the chair; the other can sit on the trunk," said the
hack driver, nodding toward these articles. Then he
proceeded to strop a razor at one of the windows. "Excuse me if I go on
with this reaping. I must go out and feed the horse, and then get
breakfast." "You breakfast rather late," commented Ashton-Kirk. "I'm
lucky to get it at any time, in this
business," grumbled Sams. "Out all night, sleep all day, and get blamed
little for it, at that." He posed before a small mirror stuck up beside
the window and gave the blade
an experimental sweep across his face. Then he tur