Mrs. Burke enjoyed hugely the disgust and the grimaces with which Green swallowed the syrupy mixture. He then beat a hasty retreat down the street. For two hours Hepsey received all who were courageous enough to venture in, with most engaging smiles and cordial handshakes, until Silas was bordering on madness. Finally he emerged from the bar and mustered up sufficient courage to threaten: "Mrs. Burke, if you don't quit, I'll send for the police," he blustered. Hepsey gazed calmly at her victim and replied: "I wouldn't, if I was in your place." "Well then, I give you fair warning I'll put you out myself if you don't go peaceable in five minutes." "No, Silas; you're wrong as usual. You can't put me out of here until I'm ready to go. I could wring you out like a mop, and drop you down a knot-hole, and nobody'd be the wiser." The door now opened slowly and a small girl, miserably clad, entered the saloon. Her head was covered with a worn, soiled shawl. From underneath the shawl she produced a battered tin pail and placed it on the bar with the phlegmatic remark, "Pa wants a quart of beer." Mrs. Burke looked at the girl and then at Bingham, and then back at the girl inquiringly. "Are you in the habit of gettin' beer here, child?" "Sure thing!" the girl replied, cheerfully. "How old are you?" "Ten, goin' on eleven." "And you sell it to her?" Hepsey asked, turning to Bingham. "Oh, it's for her father. He sends for it." He frowned at the child and she quickly disappeared, leaving the can behind her. "Does he? But I thought you said that a saloon was no place for a woman; and surely it can't be a decent place for a girl under age. Now my friend, I've got somethin' to say to you." "You are the very devil and all," Silas remarked. "Thanks, Silas. The devil sticks to his job, anyway; and owin' to the likes of you he wins out, nine times out of ten. Now will you clear out of this location, or won't you?" "Another day like this would send me to the lunatic asylum." "Then I'll be around in the mornin' at six-thirty sharp." "You just get out of here," he threatened. "If you promise to clear out yourself within three days." "I guess I'd clear out of Heaven itself to get rid of you." "Very well; and if you are still here Saturday afternoon, ten of us women will come and sit on your steps until you go. A woman can't vote whether you shall be allowed to entice her men-folk into a place like this, and at the very church door; but the average woman can be mighty disagreeable when she tries." Silas Bingham had a good business head: he reckoned up the costs--and cleared out. [Illustration] CHAPTER XVII NOTICE TO QUIT