"Wait a minute.

Let's ask a few questions first." "Who's he ?" asked a dozen voices.

"What's he going to say ?" The mob moved again towards the bar.
The big river-driver turned on the grizzled old man beside the bar-counter with bent shoulders and lazy, drawling speech.
"What've you got to say about it, son ?" he asked threateningly.
"Well, to ask a few questions first--that's all," the old man replied.
"You don't belong here, old cock," the other said roughly.
"A good many of us don't belong here," the old man replied quietly.

"It always is so.

This isn't the first time I've been to Manitou.