neared the Four Jacks and remembered all the precautions he must take in
Tubacca.

In the big room of the cantina oil lamps made yellow pools of light. The
man in the painted vest was seated at a table laying out cards in a
complicated pattern of a solitaire game. And at one side a round-faced
Mexican in ornate, south-of-the-border clothing held a guitar across one
plump knee, now and then plucking absent-mindedly at a single string as he
stared raptly into space. A third man stood behind the bar polishing thick
glasses.

"Greetings!" As Drew stood blinking just within the doorway the card
player rose. He was a tall, wide-shouldered man, a little too thin for his
height. Deep lines in his clean-shaven face bracketed his wide mouth. His
curly hair was a silvery blond, and he had dark, deeply set eyes. "I'm
Reese Topham, owner of this oasis," he introduced himself.

"Drew Kirby." He must remember that always--he was Drew Kirby, a Texan
schooled with kinfolk in Kentucky, who served in the war under Forrest and
was now drifting west, as were countless other rootless Confederate
veterans. Actually the story was close enough to the truth. And he had had
months on the trail from San Antonio to Santa Fe, then on to Tucson, to
study up on any small invented details. He was Drew Kirby, Texan, not Drew
Rennie of Red Springs, Kentucky.

"For a man just off the trail, Kirby, the Four Jacks does have a few of
the delights of civilization. A bath...." One of Topham's dark eyebrows,
so in contrast to his silvery hair, slid up inquiringly, and he grinned at
Drew's involuntary but emphatic nod. "One of nature's gifts to our fair
city is the hot spring. Hamilcar!" His hand met table top in a sharp slap.
The Mexican jerked fully awake and looked around. From the back of the
cantina emerged a middle-aged Negro.

"Yes, Mistuh Reese, suh?"

"Customer for you, Hamilcar. I would judge he wants the full treatment.
This, Mister Kirby, is the best barber, valet, and general aid to comfort
in town, the sultan of our bath. Hamilcar, Mister Kirby would like to
remove the layers of dust he has managed to pick up. Good luck to you
both!"

Drew found himself laughing as he followed Hamilcar to the rear of the
building.

Topham had reason to be proud of his bath, Drew admitted some time later.
A natural hot spring might be the base of the luxury, but man's labor had
piped the water into stone-slab tubs and provided soap and towels. To sit
and