Bar-20 Days Read online

  They were strangely clad for their surroundings, the chaps glaringly outof place in the Seaman's Port, and winks were exchanged by the regular_habitues_ when the two punchers entered the room and called for drinks.They were very tired and a little under the weather, for they had madethe most of their time and spent almost all of their money; but any onecounting on robbing them would have found them sober enough to look outfor themselves. Night had found them ready to go to the hotel, but onthe way they felt that they must have one more bracer, and finish theirexploration of Jeremiah T. Jones' tabooed section. The town had begun togrow wearisome and they were vastly relieved when they realized that therising sun would see them in the saddle and homeward bound, headed forGod's country, which was the only place for cow-punchers after all.

  "Long way from the home port, ain't you, mates?" queried a tar ofHopalong. Another seaman went to the bar to hold a short, whisperedconsultation with the bartender, who at first frowned and then finallynodded assent.

  "Too far from home, if that's what yo're driving at," Hopalong replied."Blast these hard trails--my feet are shore on the prod. Ever meet myside pardner? Johnny, here's a friend of mine, a salt-water puncher, an'he's welcome to the job, too."

  Johnny turned his head ponderously and nodded. "Pleased to meet you,stranger. An' what'll you all have?"

  "Old Holland, mate," replied the other, joining them.

  "All up!" invited Hopalong, waving them forward. "Might as well dothings right or not at all. Them's my sentiments, which I holdsas proper. Plain rye, general, if you means me," he replied to thebartender's look of inquiry.

  He drained the glass and then made a grimace. "Tastes a littleoff--reckon it's my mouth; nothing tastes right in this cussed town.Now, up on our--" He stopped and caught at the bar. "Holy smoke! That'sshore alcohol!"

  Johnny was relaxing and vainly trying to command his will power."Something's wrong; what's the matter?" he muttered sleepily.

  "Guess you meant beer; you ain't used to drinking whiskey," grinned thebartender, derisively, and watching him closely.

  "I can--drink as much whiskey as--" and, muttering, Johnny slipped tothe floor.

  "That wasn't whiskey!" cried Hopalong, sleepily, "that liquor was_fixed_!" he shouted, sudden anger bracing him. "An' I'm going to fix_you_, too!" he added, reaching for his gun, and drawing forth a wedge.His sailor friend leaped at him, to go down like a log, and Hopalong,seething with rage, wheeled and threw the weapon at the man behind thebar, who also went down. The wedge, glancing from his skull, swept a rowof bottles and glasses from the shelf and, caroming, went through thewindow.

  In an instant Hopalong was the vortex of a mass of struggling menand, handicapped as he was, fought valiantly, his rage for the timeneutralizing the effects of the drug. But at last, too sleepy to standor think, he, too, went down.

  "By the Lord, that man's a fighter!" enthusiastically remarked theleader, gently touching his swollen eye. "George must 'a' put an awfuldose in that grog."

  "Lucky for us he didn't have no gun--the wedge was bad enough," groaneda man on the floor, slowly sitting up. "Whoever swapped him that wedgefor his gun did us a good turn, all right."

  A companion tentatively readjusted his lip. "I don't envy Wilkins hisjob breaking in that man when he gets awake."

  "Don't waste no time, mates," came the order. "Up with 'em an' aboard.We've done our share; let the mate do his, an' be hanged. Hullo,Portsmouth; coming around, eh?" he asked the man who had first felt thewedge. "I was scared you was done for that time."

  "No more shanghaiing hair pants for me, no more!" thickly repliedPortsmouth. "Oh, my head, it's bust open!"

  "Never mind about the bartender--let him alone; we can't waste no timewith him now!" commanded the leader sharply. "Get these fellers on boardbefore we're caught with 'em. We want our money after that."

  "All clear!" came a low call from the lookout at the door, and soon ashadowy mass surged across the street and along a wharf. There was ashort pause as a boat emerged out of the gloom, some whispered orders,and then the squeaking of oars grew steadily fainter in the direction ofa ship which lay indistinct in the darkness.