r, right off the ice."

"Ice?" There was every sort of emotion in the echo of the word as the
saloon-keeper glanced vengefully across at a window through which the
sun was pouring. "Guess we don't grow ice around these parts, 'cep'
when we don't need it, an' I don't guess the railroad's discovered they
hatched Orrville out yet. We got lager in soak, an' lager by the keg,
down in a cool celler. Ef these things ain't to your notion I don't
guess you need the lager I kep."

"We'll have the bottled stuff in soak. Long."

"Ther's jest one size. Ef that don't suit, guess you best duplicate."

There was no offense in Ju's manner. It was just his cold way of
placing facts before his customers, when they were strangers.

He uncorked the bottles and set them beside the long glasses, and
waited while Bud poured his out. Then he accepted the price and made
change. Jeff silently poured out his and raised it to his lips.

"How, Bud."

"How."

The two men drank and set down their half-emptied glasses.

The sharp ears of the saloon-keeper had caught the name "Bud," and he
now stood racking his fertile brains to place it. But the stranger's
identity entirely escaped him.

"Been times around here, ain't ther'?" Bud remarked casually.

And Ju promptly seized the opportunity.

"Times? Sure. Say, I guess you don't belong around. Jest passin'
thro'?"

Bud nodded. Jeff had moved off toward the window, where he stood
gazing out. The saloon-keeper's gaze followed him.

"Why, yes. We're passin' through," returned Bud, without hesitation.
"You see, we belong down south in the 'T.T.' an' 'O----' country."

"That so?" Ju reached a box of cigars and thrust them at the new
customer. "Smoke?" he enquired. His generosity was by no means
uncalculated.

Bud helped himself, and in response to Ju's "Your friend?" he called
across to Jeff at the window. But Jeff shook his head, and the
saloon-keeper was given an opportunity of studying his set features,
and the premature lines he saw graven upon them. He withdrew the box
and turned his attention to the more amenable Bud.

"It's a swell country down your ways," he observed cordially. Then he
added, "You ain't been cussed with a gang o' toughs raidin' stock,
neither, same as we have fer the last fi' years. But they're out. Oh,
yes, they're sure out. Yes, siree, you guessed right. Ther's sure
been some play around here. As neat a hangin' as I've see in
thirty-fi