“No, sir. What for should Jake Amsden come here for, Mr. Gerald?”
“He might feel thirsty,” suggested Wentworth, “just as I am. Have you got some good whisky?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Peter briskly.
“Well, go in and get a couple of glasses,” said Wentworth.
“None for me,” commenced Gerald, but Wentworth gave him a quick look that silenced him. He saw that his companion had an object in view.
Wentworth made a motion to go in, but the negro interfered hastily. “Stay where you are, gemmen, I’ll bring out de whisky.”
“We can go in as well as not, and save you trouble,” said Wentworth, and despite Peter’s opposition the two followed him in.
They looked about scrutinizingly, but saw nothing to repay their search.
There was a counter, such as is usually found in saloons, and Mr. Johnson going behind this brought out glasses and a bottle of whisky.
“Help yourselves, gemmen!” he said, but there was an uneasy look on his face.