The startled room turned to the door. There were nudges and whispers. Talking ceased. There had been a dozen noisy conversations besides the one recorded.
“Reading tracks is harder to learn than Greek, and more interesting,” said Charlie. “Cattlemen have always had to read sign, and they’ve always had to read it right—ever since they was six years old. What you begin learning at six years old is the only thing you ever learn good. So cowmen don’t just look and talk. They see and think.”
He moved easily across the room in a vast silence. Caney’s eyes met those of the Merman barkeeper. The Merman’s bloodless and sinister face made no change, but he made a change in the order.
“Step up, Mr. See,” said the Merman. “This one’s on me. What will it be?”
“Beer,” said Charlie. He nodded to the crowd. “Howdy, boys! Hello, Shaky—that you?”
He lined up beside Shaky; he noted sly sidelong glances and furtive faces reflected in the blistered mirror behind the bar.
“Sure is. Play you a game of pool—what?”
“All set?” demanded Caney from the other end of the bar. “Drink her down, fellers! Here’s to the gallows tree!”
“Looks like a good season for fruit,” said Charlie. A miner laughed.