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"Well," he ventured, "come inside, anyway. Pretty chilly wind that for April. Come right in!"
Shock stepped in. The old man drew nearer to him.
"Pain-killer or lime-juice?" he enquired in an insinuating voice.
"What?" said Shock.
"Pain-killer or lime-juice," winking and lowering his voice to a confidential tone.
"Well, as I haven't got any pain I guess I'll take a little lime-juice," replied Shock.
The old man gave him another wink, long and slow, went to the corner of the room, pushed back a table, pulled up a board from the floor, and extracted a bottle.
"You's got to be mighty careful," he said. "Them blank police fellers, instead of attending to their business, nose round till a feller can't take no rest at night."
He went to a shelf that stood behind the plank that did for a counter, took down two gla.s.ses, and filled them up.
"There," he said with great satisfaction, "you'll find that's no back-yard brew."
Shock slowly lifted the gla.s.s and smelt it. "Why, it's whisky!" he said in a surprised tone.
"Ha! ha!" burst out the old man. "You're a dandy; that's what it is at home."
He was delighted with his guest's fine touch of humour. Shock hesitated a moment or two, looking down at the whisky in the gla.s.s before him.
"How much?" he said at length.
"Oh, we'll make that fifty cents to you," said the old man carelessly.
Shock put down the money, lifted his gla.s.s slowly, carried it to the door and threw the contents outside.
"Hold on there! What the blank, blank do you mean?" The old man was over the counter with a bound.
"It was mine," said Shock quietly.
"Yours," shouted the old man, beside himself with rage; "I aint goin'
to stand no such insult as that."
"Insult!"
"What's the matter with that whisky?"
"All right as far as I know, but I wanted lime-juice."
"Lime-juice!" The old man's amazement somewhat subdued his anger.
"Lime-juice! Well, I'll be blanked!"
"That's what I asked for," replied Shock good-naturedly.
"Lime-juice!" repeated the old man. "But what in blank, blank did you throw it out for?"
"Why, what else could I do with it?"
"What else? See here, stranger, the hull population of this entire vicinity isn't more than twenty-five persons, but every last one of 'em twenty-five 'ud told you what to do with it. Why didn't you give it to me?"
"Why," said Shock in a surprised tone, "I don't know the ways of your country, but where I come from we don't take any man's leavings."
This was new light upon the subject for the old man.
"Well, now, see here, young man, if ever you're in doubt again about a gla.s.s of whisky like that one there, you just remark to yourself that while there may be a few things you might do with it, there's just one you can't. There's only one spot for whisky, and that's inside some fellow that knows something. Heavens and earth! Didn't know what to do with it, eh?"
He peered curiously into Shock's face as if he found him an interesting study.
"No," said Shock seriously, "you see, I couldn't drink it--never did in my life."
The old man drew nearer to him. "Say," touching him with his forefinger on the chest, "if I could only be sure you'd keep fresh I'd put you in a case. They'd come a mighty long way in this country to see you, you bet."
Bill Lee's anger and disgust were giving place to curiosity.
"What are you, anyway?" he enquired.
"Well, my boss told me to-day I was a prospector." Shock's mind reverted, as he spoke, to that last conversation with his Convener.
"Prospector," echoed the old man. "What for, land, coal?"
"No, men."
"What?" The old man looked as if he could not have heard aright.
"Men," said Shock again simply and earnestly.
Bill was hopelessly puzzled. He tried to get at it another way.
"What's your Company?" he enquired. "I mean who are you working for?"
Before answering Shock paused, looking far past Bill down the trail and then said solemnly, "G.o.d."
Bill started back from his companion with a gasp of surprise. Was the man mad? Putting the incident of the whisky and this answer of his together, he might well be.
"Yes," said Shock, withdrawing his eyes from the trail and facing Bill squarely. "That's my business. I am after men." He drew from his pocket a small Bible and read, "Follow me and I will make you fishers of men."
When Bill saw the Bible he looked relieved, but rather disgusted.
"Oh, I git you now! You're a preacher, eh?"
"Well," said Shock in a tone almost confidential, "I'll tell you I'm not much of a preacher. I don't think I'm cut out for that, somehow."
Here Bill brightened slightly. "I tried last night in town," continued Shock, "and it was pretty bad. I don't know who had the worst of it, the congregation or myself. But it was bad."
"Thinkin' of quittin'?" Bill asked almost eagerly, "Because if you are, I know a good job for a fellow of your build and make."