I felt in my pocket and found
that I had one solitary lonely dime, and swinging aside the green baize
door, I entered.
"Gimme a beer," I said laying down my dime. A small glass, four-fifths
froth and one-fifth beer, was skated at me by the bartender from the
other end of the counter, and my dime was raked into the till.
Then I stood around like a bump on a log, trying to screw my courage up
to ask the blear eyed, red-nosed Apollo for a job. Some hack voiced old
chromo was trying to warble "Do they miss me at home," and mentally I
thought "if he had ever sung like that when he was at home they were
probably glad he had left." The scene was sickening and disgusting to
me, but empty stomachs stand not on ceremony, so I turned around and
was just about to accost the proprietor, when Biff! I felt a stinging
whack between my shoulders. Quickly I faced about, all the risibility of
my red headed nature coming to the surface, and there I saw a big
handsome chap standing in front of me. Six feet tall, broad-shouldered,
straight, lithe limbs, denoting herculean strength, a massive head
poised on a well shaped neck, two cold blue eyes, and a face covered by
a bushy brown beard; dressed in well fitting clothes, trousers tucked in
the tops of shiny black boots, long Prince Albert coat and a broad
sombrero set rakishly on one side of his head.
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