You walk into what claims to be a saloon, and come out on a view of the hills.

They tell me the bar of that imitation saloon is away over there on that platform, and they say the bottles are all full of tea.

That right ?" Luck nodded gloomily.

"Soon as they get the set up, it's going to be your privilege to come boiling out of that saloon, shooting two guns, Pink," he prophesied.

"You'll have the fun of killing half a dozen boys that come down from this end shooting as they ride." He put his cigarette between his lips and began to untie the dingy blue tape that bound the scenarios together.
"Ever read any of Bently Brown's stories?
They wished a bunch of them on to me while I was gone and couldn't defend myself," he said, as one who breaks bad news.