He received instructions as to the location of the best barber shop and speedily wended his way there. He found Sunday was not observed in the barber shop, nor in the resort which adjoined it.
“Any chance to get a bath here?” he asked one of the two barbers with a twinkle in his gray eyes.
He expected a snort of astonishment and a sarcastic reply.
“Sure. Want it first or after?”
Rathburn eyed the barber suspiciously. Was the man poking fun at him? Well, he was not a stranger to repartee.
“First or after what?” he asked, scowling.
“Your shave and hair cut.”
Rathburn laughed. “I’ll take it first––if you have it. An’ if you have, I’ll say this is a first-class barber shop.”
The barber led the way to a room in the rear of the place with a pleased grin.
An hour or so later Rathburn, with the lower part of his face a shade paler than the upper half, his dark hair showing neatly under his broad-brimmed hat, his black riding boots glistening, and a satisfied smile on his face, sauntered out of the barber shop into the resort next door.