A low-ceiled room with a bar at the end near the door. The odor of smoke, liquor, and perspiration. The place lighted with oil-lamps having dirty chimneys. The lights of the lamps dancing and flaring to the stamp of many heavy-shod feet. A maze of human beings whirling, shifting, prancing, and cutting figures on the floor. Rough-looking men, bearded and armed; disheveled women, their faces glowing with excitement and from the effects of drink. At the far end of the room an old man, mounted on a square box and seated on a chair, sawing away for dear life at his fiddle, while he called the figures in a sing-song tone.
And this was the way the fiddler called:
"First couple balance and swing,
Promenade the inside ring,
Promenade the outside ring,
Balance and swing and cast off six,
Ladies to the right and gents to the left.
Swing the one you swung before,
Down the center and cast off four,
Swing the one that comes to you,
Down the center and cast off two."
The men were such as most women would avoid. With few exceptions, they had wicked faces. They[Pg 288] had been drinking, and at intervals some elated and enthusiastic fellow would utter a blood-curdling yell.
But the figures they cut were laughable at times. They "spanked 'er down" furiously. They seized their partners and swung them until often they were lifted off their feet. But those were not the sort of women to mind.
Three or four of the citizens of Sunk Hole were married. Two had daughters old enough to be present at the dance. Other "ladies" had come in from the surrounding country, brought there by their partners.
There were a number of Mexicans in the crowd, and three or four Mexican women.
Into this smoky room came yet another Mexican, a young man, dressed in soiled finery, his wide-brimmed high-peaked hat shading his face. He had a little mustache that was pointed on the ends, and he walked with a swagger. Immediately on entering he made for the bar and called for a drink.
Had any one been watching him closely that person must have noticed that he did not drink the stuff put out to him, but slyly and deftly tossed the contents of the glass into a corner under the bar.
This newcomer was Frank Merriwell, who had disguised himself as well as possible and boldly walked into this den of ruffians.