Empty bottles

EMPTY BOTTLES
By RAYMOND S. SPEARS
What use had any six foot man for an empty one quart bottle?
A rather large, awkward man shambled into the One Way Thru Saloon, sidled over to the bar and addressed Cock Eye Baer, the mixer. His voice was so low that Cock Eye leaned to hear and then asked for repetition of the nearly voiceless words.
“I want a bottle!” the man blurted out.
“Oh, yeh!” The bartender grinned fatly. “The question now is, gent, how big a bottle?”
“A quart!”
“A man’s size—and now what liquor’ll you have in it?”
The familiar patrons were listening. The visitor was plainly modest, at least before beginning his drinks; but in buying by the bottleful he would obtain more liquor for much less money. And there was a certain aspect which indicated that the visitor was not quite familiar with the lingo or the customs of this business place. He had asked for a bottle—not for a quart of liquor. He was a long time coming to the point, too.
“Why, if you please, I don’t want no liquor; I want an empty bottle!”
“An empty bottle?”
“Yes, sir!” the awkward fellow said, deprecatorily, “I want it clean—you know—no whisky or anything—”