Part 21 (1/2)

Martin stared vacantly at Mrs. Burke, dropped his gla.s.s, and muttered incoherently. Then he bolted hastily from the place without paying for his drink.

Bingham was now getting a bit hysterical over the situation, and was about to make another vigorous protest, when Hiram Green entered and called for some beer. Again Hepsey extended her hand cordially, and Hiram jumped as if he had seen a ghost--for they had been friendly for years.

”Hepsey Burke, what in the name of all that's decent are you doin' in a place like this?” he demanded when he could get his breath. ”Don't you know you'll ruin your reputation if you're seen sittin' in a saloon?”

”Oh, don't let that worry you, Hiram, My reputation'd freeze a stroke of lightnin'. You don't seem to be worryin' much about your own reputation.”

”Oh well, a man can do a lot of things a woman can't, without losin'

his reputation.”

For an instant the color flamed into Mrs. Burke's face as she retorted hotly:

”Yes, there's the whole business. A man can drink, and knock the seventh commandment into a c.o.c.ked hat; and then when he wants to settle down and get married he demands a wife as white as snow. If he gets drunk, it's a lark. If she gets drunk, it's a crime. But I didn't come here to preach or hold a revival, and as for my welfare and my reputation, Mr. Bingham and I was just havin' a pleasant afternoon together when you came in and interrupted us. He's awful nice when you get to know him real intimate. Now, Hiram, I hate to spoil your fun, and you do look a bit thirsty. Suppose you have a lemonade on me, if you're sure it won't go to your head. It isn't often that we get out like this together. Lemonades for two, Mr. Bingham; and make Hiram's real sweet.”

Mrs. Burke enjoyed hugely the disgust and the grimaces with which Green swallowed the syrupy mixture. He then beat a hasty retreat down the street. For two hours Hepsey received all who were courageous enough to venture in, with most engaging smiles and cordial handshakes, until Silas was bordering on madness. Finally he emerged from the bar and mustered up sufficient courage to threaten:

”Mrs. Burke, if you don't quit, I'll send for the police,” he bl.u.s.tered.

Hepsey gazed calmly at her victim and replied:

”I wouldn't, if I was in your place.”

”Well then, I give you fair warning I'll put you out myself if you don't go peaceable in five minutes.”

”No, Silas; you're wrong as usual. You can't put me out of here until I'm ready to go. I could wring you out like a mop, and drop you down a knot-hole, and n.o.body'd be the wiser.”

The door now opened slowly and a small girl, miserably clad, entered the saloon. Her head was covered with a worn, soiled shawl. From underneath the shawl she produced a battered tin pail and placed it on the bar with the phlegmatic remark, ”Pa wants a quart of beer.”

Mrs. Burke looked at the girl and then at Bingham, and then back at the girl inquiringly.

”Are you in the habit of gettin' beer here, child?”

”Sure thing!” the girl replied, cheerfully.

”How old are you?”

”Ten, goin' on eleven.”

”And you sell it to her?” Hepsey asked, turning to Bingham.

”Oh, it's for her father. He sends for it.” He frowned at the child and she quickly disappeared, leaving the can behind her.

”Does he? But I thought you said that a saloon was no place for a woman; and surely it can't be a decent place for a girl under age. Now my friend, I've got somethin' to say to you.”

”You are the very devil and all,” Silas remarked.

”Thanks, Silas. The devil sticks to his job, anyway; and owin' to the likes of you he wins out, nine times out of ten. Now will you clear out of this location, or won't you?”