legitimate. It always left an enterprising
individual the sporting chance of dipping a hand into it. But the
other was an outrage against commercialism. Why, if that sort of thing
became the general practice, "how," he asked himself, "was an honest
trader to live?"

The enquiry was the result of extreme nervous irritation, and he
scratched at the roots of his beard in a genuine physical trouble of
that nature.

He was so engrossed upon his meditations that he entirely failed to
observe some mounted strangers debouch upon the market-place from the
western end of the township. Nor was it until they obstructed his view
that he awoke to their presence. Then he became aware of two men on
two horses, leading two pack ponies.

He scrutinized them narrowly without shifting his position, and, long
before they reached him, he decided they were strangers.

They dismounted in silence and without haste. They went round their
horses and loosened cinchas. Then they tied the four beasts to the
tie-posts in front of the saloon.

They approached the saloon-keeper. The larger of the two surveyed the
unmoved Ju with steady eyes. Then he greeted him in deep, easy tones.

"Howdy," he said. "You run this shanty?"

The reflection upon his business house was not lost upon its proprietor.

"Guess I'm boss of this--hotel."

"Ah--hotel." Bud's gaze wandered over the simple structure. It
settled for a moment upon a certain display of debris, bottles, cases,
kegs, lying tumbled at an angle of the building. Then it came back to
Ju's hard face, and, in passing, it swept over the weather-boarding of
the structure which was plastered thick with paint to rescue it from
the ravages of drip from the shingle roof to which there was no
guttering. "Then I guess we'll get a drink."

By a curious movement Ju seemed to fall back from his position and
become swallowed up by the cavity behind him. And Bud and his
companion moved forward in his wake.

The place was entirely empty of all but the reek of stale tobacco, and
the curious, pungent odor of alcohol. The two customers lounged
against the shabby bar in that attitude which bespoke saddle weariness.
Ju stood ready to carry out their orders, his busy, enquiring mind
searching for an indication of the strangers' identity.

"Rye?" he suggested amiably, testing, in his own fashion, their quality.

But these men displayed no enthusiasm.

"Got any lager?" demanded Bud. "A long lage