“Well, let’s walk around here,” said Lynn, “where we can sit down, and I’ll give you some p’inters that won’t come amiss for you to know.”
Hugh accompanied his new-found acquaintance, who led him around a corner and down a paved alley. A little farther on, the judge knocked; a door was quickly opened. Hugh’s curiosity was soon satisfied. He found himself in the back room of one of the many drug stores of Meade. The place was provided with deal tables, chairs, and lounges. On the walls were hung pictures of the race-track and the prize-ring. The two seated themselves at one or the numerous small tables.
“Well, what’ll you have, Stanton?” asked the judge. “It’s my treat.”
“Seltzer,” replied Hugh.
“Hey, there! seltzer and a beer,” called out the judge to the “druggist” in attendance. “Seltzer may suit you, but beer is good enough for me,” said Judge Lynn. “Fact is I never drink anythin’ stronger ‘n beer until nine o’clock, and then take it straight. My life is guarded ‘round with well-defined rules, and I’m a stickler on rules, and never break ‘em unless the occasion is a little out er the ordinary.”
“I was not aware,” observed Hugh, when the seltzer and a foaming glass of beer had been placed on the table before them, “that we had saloons in Meade. You know Kansas has the reputation of being a great prohibition State.”
“That’s our boast—no open saloons,” said the judge, as he blew the foam from his glass of beer, “we Kansans are mighty particular ‘bout appearances. Now, there’s twenty odd drug stores in this ‘ere town and every one of ‘em has a back door.”
“What!” exclaimed Hugh, “do all the drug stores have a saloon in the rear?”
“Not a saloon, Mr. Stanton,” replied the judge, suavely, “but they all have a restin’-place—a gentleman’s parlor, so to speak, like this, where you can have anythin’ you call for, from a plain seltzer to a Manhattan cocktail, and I might add they’re all doin’ a devilish brisk business.”
“Hey, there!” cried the judge, knocking on the table with his cane, “fill ‘em up again. You see, Mr. Stanton, I was the first representative in the legislature from this county, and, as a true Kansan, am proud of the reputation the State enjoys. We legislate for the people and drink for ourselves, askin’ no questions. Why, there’s Ike Palmer and Bill Young, the editors of the roarin’est temperance organ you ever saw. They are great patrons of these restin’-places on life’s highway. We all meet here on an equal footin’, and no serious jar threatens to interrupt our customs. These temperance editors, in flamin’ editorials, proclaim, week in and week out, the fact that not an open saloon mars or disgraces the fair name of Meade. We all take pride, as a matter of course, in sendin’ these papers to our Eastern friends.”