Part 9 (1/2)
”My bag will be safe here?” I prompted, as we were about to file out.
”Absolutely, suh. Personal property is respected in Benton. We'd hang the man who moved that bag of yours the fraction of one inch.”
This at least was comforting. As much could not be said of New York City.
The Colonel led down the echoing hall and the shaking stairs, into the lobby, peopled as before by men in all modes of attire and cl.u.s.tered mainly at the bar. He led directly to the bar itself.
”Three, Ed. Name your likker, gentlemen. A little Double X foh me, Ed.”
”Old rye,” Bill briefly ordered.
The bartender set out bottle and whiskey gla.s.ses, and looked upon me. I felt that the bystanders were waiting. My garb proclaimed the ”pilgrim,”
but I was resolved to be my own master, and for liquor I had no taste.
”Lemonade, if you have it,” I faltered.
”Yes, sir.” The bartender cracked not a smile, but a universal sigh, broken by a few sn.i.g.g.e.rs, voiced the appraisal of the audience. Some of the loafers eyed me amusedly, some turned away.
”Surely, suh, you will temper that with a dash of fortifiah,” the Colonel protested. ”A pony of brandy, Ed--or just a dash to cut the water in it.
To me, suh, the water in this country is vile--inimical to the human stomick.”
”Thank you,” said I, ”but I prefer plain lemonade.”
”The gent wants his pizen straight, same as the rest of you,” calmly remarked the bartender.
My lemonade being prepared, the Colonel and Bill tossed off full gla.s.ses of whiskey, acknowledged with throaty ”A-ah!” and smack of lips; and I hastily quaffed my lemonade. From the dollar which the Colonel grandly flung upon the bar he received no change--by which I might figure that whereas whiskey was twenty-five cents the gla.s.s, lemonade was fifty cents.
We issued into the street and were at once engulfed by a ferment of sights and sounds extraordinary.
CHAPTER V
ON GRAND TOUR
The sun had set and all the golden twilight was hazy with the dust suspended in swirl and strata over the ugly roofs. In the canvas-faced main street the throng and noise had increased rather than diminished at the approach of dusk. Although clatter of dishes mingled with the cadence, the people acted as if they had no thought of eating; and while aware of certain pangs myself, I felt a diffidence in proposing supper as yet.
My two companions hesitated a moment, spying up and down, which gave me opportunity to view the scene anew. Surely such an hotch-potch never before populated an American town: Men flannel s.h.i.+rted, high booted, s.h.a.ggy haired and bearded, stumping along weighted with excess of belts and formidable revolvers balanced, not infrequently, by sheathed butcher-knives--men whom I took to be teamsters, miners, railroad graders, and the like; other men white skinned, clean shaven except perhaps for moustaches and goatees, in white silk s.h.i.+rts or ruffled bosoms, broadcloth trousers and trim footgear, unarmed, to all appearance, but evidently respected; men of Eastern garb like myself--tourists, maybe, or merchants; a squad of surveyors in picturesque neckerchiefs, and revolver girted; trainmen, grimy engineers and firemen; clerks, as I opined, dapper and bustling, clad in the latest fas.h.i.+on, with diamonds in flashy ties and heavy gold watch chains across their fancy waistcoats; soldiers; men whom I took to be Mexicans, by their velvet jackets, slashed pantaloons and filagreed hats; darkly weathered, leathery faced, long-haired personages, no doubt scouts and trappers, in fringed buckskins and beaded moccasins; blanket wrapped Indians; and women.
Of the women a number were unmistakable as to vocation, being lavishly painted, strident, and bold, and significantly dressed. I saw several in amazing costumes of tightly fitting black like ballet girls, low necked, short skirted, around the smooth waists snake-skin belts supporting handsome little pistols and dainty poignards. Contrasted there were women of other cla.s.s and, I did not doubt, of better repute; some in gowns and bonnets that would do them credit anywhere in New York, and some, of course, more commonly attired in calico and gingham as proper to the humbler station of laundresses, cooks, and so forth.
The uproar was a jargon of shouts, hails, music, hammering, barking, scuff of feet, trample of horses and oxen, rumble of creaking wagons and Concord stages.
”Well, suh,” spoke the Colonel, pulling his hat over his eyes, ”shall we stroll a piece?”
”Might better,” a.s.sented Bill. ”The gentleman may find something of interest right in the open. How are you on the goose, sir?” he demanded of me.
”The goose?” I uttered.
”Yes. Keno.”