“Shu-u!” Squint exclaimed, softly. “’Course, I mind my own business, Mister Benson!”
“’Course, know that. Well, goodnight!”
Squint Legere returned to the bar where he was awaited with interest by a curious crowd.
“He’s Patient Bob,” Squint remarked in a low voice.
“Not —— Say, Patient Bob Benson! Shu-u-u-u!” voices gasped.
“An’ I seen ’im settin’ theh all the ev’ing, reading the paper, cool as you please!” Tid Ricks broke the silence. “Why, he neveh even looked up when that old fourflusher come shootin’ by, no, suh! I seen it with my own eyes. I knowed he was good. Same time I neveh dreamed he was Patient Bob—but when he got to goin’—’course—”
“’Course!” others assented. “Anybody’d knowed, then, he was good!”
Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the July 15, 1928 issue of Adventure magazine.