Punks nudged Scotty with his elbow.
"What's that fellow's name that wus partners with Circus Jack in the Banderita?" he whispered.
Scotty rapped his forehead with his horny hand, and ran his fingers into his bushy, tow-colored hair, with a clutch of desperation.
"Punks," he whispered, "I allers counted you a fool, but you ain't; you air a shinin' light! His name wus Jim Wilmer."
Then, coloring up to the roots of his hair, he advanced and said:
"If you please, ma'am."
The woman turned at this, meeting a whole battery of eyes without any seeming consciousness of it.
"There wus a feller named Jim Wilmer here—wus partners in the Banderita, with a feller named Circ—leastways, I don't know his name, but we called him Circus Jack, ma'am."
The woman's face—her beautiful face—turned as white as the collar at her throat; she leaned against the bar and tried to speak, but the words died on her lips.
Finally, with an effort, she half whispered: