Cornwall (England : County) -- Fiction; Short stories
"As I closed the front door and stepped out upon the sidewalk, a tall
man lounged across to me from the doorway of a saloon across the
road--a lumberer, by his dress. He wore a large soft hat, a striped
flannel shirt open at the neck, a broad leathern belt, and muddy
trousers tucked into muddy wading-boots. His appearance was
picturesque enough without help from his dress. He had a mighty
length of arm and breadth of shoulders; a handsome, but thin and
almost delicately fair, face, with blue eyes, and a surprisingly
well-kept beard. The colour of this beard and of his hair--which he
wore pretty long--was a light auburn. Just now the folds of his
raiment were full of moist sawdust; and as he came he brought the
scent of the pine-woods with him.
"'How's the Bishop?' asked this giant, jerking his head towards the
little balcony of No. 67.
"Before I could hit on a discreet answer, he followed the question up
with another:
"'What'll you take?'
"I saw that he had something to say, and allowed him to lead the way
to a saloon a little way down the road. 'Simpson's Pioneers'
Symposium' was the legend above the door. A small, pimply-faced man
in seedy black--whom I guessed at once, and correctly, to be
'Huz-and-Buz'--lounged by the bar inside; and across the counter the
bar-keeper had his banjo slung, and was gently strumming the
accompaniment of 'Hey, Juliana!'
"'Put that down,' commanded my new acquaintance; and then, turning to
Huz-and-Buz, 'Git!'
"The architect raised the brim of his hat to me, bowed servilely, and
left.
"'Short or long?'
"I said I would take a short drink.
"'A brandy sour?'
"'A 'brandy sour' will suit me.'
"He kept his eye for a moment on the bar-tender, who began to bustle
around with the bottles and glasses; then turned upon me.
"'Now, then.'
"'About the Bishop, as you call him?'
"He nodded.
"'Well, you're not to tell him so; but he's going to die.'
"'Quick?'
"'I think so.'
"He nodded. 'I knew that,' he said, and was silent for a minute;
then resumed, 'No; he won't be told. We take an interest in that
young man.'
"'Meaning by 'we'?'
"'The citizens of Eucalyptus as a body. My name's William Anderson:
Captain Bill they call me. I was one of the first settlers in
Eucalyptus. I've seen it high, and I've seen it low. And I'm going
to be the last man to quit; that's the captain's place. And when I
say this or that is public opinion in Eucalyptus, it's got to be.
I drink to your health, Doctor.'
"'Thank you,' said I. 'Then I may count on your silence? The poor
chap is so powerfully set on crossing the Rockies and getting to
close quarters with some real wickedness, that to tell him the truth
might shorten the few days he has left.'
"Captain Bill smiled grimly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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