It was necessary for Toryl to use the crypterpreter to translate the various signs along the bar. Okie saw the small cylindrical machine sitting on the bar. His curiosity bested him. He gave it a more thorough examination than a dog gives a fireplug.
Some of the signs read: "DOUBLE BOURBON—$2.10" "COOL GIN RICKEY—$1.25" "IN GOD WE TRUST, BUT NOBODY ELSE!" "RUM COLLINS—$1" "A FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED" "NO INDIANS SERVED HERE" and "SCOTCH—IMPORTED, $1.50—DOMESTIC, $1.30."
"Cool gin rick-ey," said Toryl.
"Comin' right up," Okie mumbled, his attention still wrapped around the crypterpreter. "Say, what is this gadget anyway?"
"It is a cryp-terp-reter," Toryl beamed with pride. "It en-ables us to un-der-stand and speak your lan-guage."
"Aw, go on!" Okie managed a fainthearted grin, uncertain of whether his leg was being pulled. "Come on now, tell me what it is."
"But I have just told you, sir."
The barkeep cursed under his breath. "Two gin rickeys, did you say?"
"Yes."