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Dam-fools!" yelled the exasperated bar-keeper, unlocking the door for the police. That night they slept in a German prison. Sydney could not disguise from himself the fact that the situation was rather serious. The escapade would probably mean a sentence of a stiff bout of imprisonment, or a heavy fine, and, as he was penniless, it would perforce have to be the former.
Hanson had been conscious from time to time of the close but furtive scrutiny of the man whom the bar-keeper had designated as Bob Flick, and now he, in turn, made Flick an object of observation. He saw a tall man of noticeable languor and deliberation of movement, doubtless so long studied that it had become natural.
His clothes are of broadcloth, and were once fashionable and good, but now they are torn to rags, and soiled with filth. His hands are small and white; his hair, luxurious and curling naturally, is uncombed; his features are handsome, but bruised and unwashed. This is Sinclair! The bar-keeper of this place is quite a character in his way.
The tramp, without moving, and apparently ignorant of the sensation he had created, raised his glass to his lips, and with a hearty "Here's to ye, lads," tossed off the whisky. As he replaced his glass, he became aware that he was the center of attention, and facing the bar-keeper, said: "What's the row with ye? I paid fer the drinks,"
"We shall have this fellow in phrenitis, or laryngitis, or dothenenteritis, or some other itis, before long, if he's aggravated." "And whichever it is, it'll kill him. He has no more stamina left than a yard of pump water." "I should consider him chargeable to the parish," suggested the bar-keeper. "Exactually so, my Solomon of licensed victuallers. Get a workhouse order for him, Costello."
"Trouble coming," I heard the bar-keeper remark, speaking partly to himself and partly with the view, as was evident from his manner, of leading me to question him. But this I did not feel that it was right to do. "Got the sheriff on him at last," added the bar-keeper. "What's the matter, Bill?" inquired a man who now came in with a bustling, important air, and leaned familiarly over the bar.
"Who was Jenkins after?" "The old man," replied the bar-keeper, in a voice that showed pleasure rather than regret. "No!" "It's a fact." Bill, the bar-keeper, actually smiled. "What's to pay?" said the man. "Don't know, and don't care much." "Did he serve a summons or an execution?" "Can't tell." "Judge Lyman's suit went against him." "Did it?"
How the name, uttered so sadly, and yet with such moving tenderness by the mother's lips, caused me to start almost to tremble. "If he is in the house, ma'am," said I, firmly, "I will see him for you." And I left her and went into the bar. "In what room do you think I will find young Hammond?" I asked of the bar-keeper. He looked at me curiously, but did not answer.
"I was never in a saloon in my life before," added Samuel, as he realized the character of the place. "But please please give me something to eat." "Hully gee, young feller!" exclaimed the bar-keeper. "You do it great. You ought to be an actor. Step up and feed your face." "What?" stammered Samuel, perplexed. "EAT!" said the other, and pointed. "Maybe you understand that."
I would at any time trust my life in his hands." "I am willing to do so." Then turning to the bar-keeper, Mr. Hobart said "I'll take a glass of brandy and water, and you may add some mint." "Perhaps you'll have a mint julep?" suggested the barkeeper, winking aside to a man who stood near, listening to what passed between the two members of the Order. "Yes I don't care yes.
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