“Always do that, I reckon, when I’m in a tavern,” answered my guide, quietly pouring out and swallowing another glassful. “The gentleman shall have your bed to-day. You and your Sambo may sleep in the pigsty. You have none though, I believe?”
“Bob!” screamed Johnny furiously.
“That’s my name—Bob Rock.”
“For the present,” hissed Johnny, with a sneer.
“Just as yours is Johnny Down,” replied Bob in the same tone. “Pooh! Johnny, guess we know one another?”
“Rayther calkilate we do,” replied Johnny through his teeth.
“And have done many a day,” laughed Bob.
“You’re the famous Bob from Sodoma in Georgia?”
“Sodoma in Alabama, Johnny. Sodoma lies in Alabama,” said Bob, filling another glass. “Don’t you know that yet, you who were above a year in Columbus, doin’ all sorts of dirty work?”
“Better hold your tongue, Bob,” said Johnny, with a dangerous look at me.