“And Sally done it?” groaned Nash.

“Sure; it was like a dare—­and you know Sally.  She’d risk her whole place any time for the sake of a bet.”

“I know it, but don’t rub it in.”

“She fetched out a steak and served Butch as if he’d been a king and then sat down beside him and started kiddin’ him along, with all the gang of us sittin’ or standin’ around and laughin’ fit to bust, but not loud for fear Butch would get annoyed.

“Then two things come in together and spoiled the prettiest little party that was ever started in Eldara.  First was that player piano which Sally got shipped in and paid God-knows-how-much for; the second was this greenhorn I was tellin’ you about.”

“Go on,” said Nash, the little snarl coming back in his voice.  “Tell me how the tenderfoot walked up and kicked Butch out of the place.”

“Somebody been tellin’ you?”

“No; I just been readin’ the mind of Eldara.”

“It was a nice play, though.  This Bard—­we found out later that was his name—­walks in, takes a table, and not being served none too quick, he walks over and slips a nickel in the slot of the piano.  Out she starts with a piece of rippin’ ragtime—­you know how loud it plays?  Butch, he kept on talkin’ for a minute, but couldn’t hear himself think.  Finally he bellers:  ‘Who turned that damned tin-pan loose?’

“This Bard walks up and bows.  He says:  ’Sir, I came here to find food, and since I can’t get service, I’ll take music as a substitute.’

“Them was the words he used, Steve, honest to God.  Used them to Butch!

“Well, Conklin was too flabbergasted to budge, and Bard, he leaned over and says to Sally:  ’This floor is fairly smooth.  Suppose you and I dance till I get a chance to eat?’

“We didn’t know whether to laugh or to cheer, but most of us compromised by keeping an eye on Butch’s gun.

“Sally says, ‘Sure I’ll dance,’ and gets up.

“‘Wait!’ hollers Butch; ‘are you leavin’ me for this wall-eyed galoot?’

“There ain’t nothin’ Sally loves more’n a fight—­we all know that.  But this time I guess she took pity on the poor tenderfoot, or maybe she jest didn’t want to get her floor all messed up.

“‘Keep your hat on, Butch,’ she says, ’all I want to do is to give him some motherly advice.’

“‘If you’re acting that part,’ says Bard, calm as you please, ’I’ve got to tell mother that she’s been keeping some pretty bad company.’

“‘Some what?’ bellers Butch, not believin’ his ears.

“And young Bard, he steps around the girl and stands over Butch.

“‘Bad company is what I said,’ he repeats, ’but maybe I can be convinced.’

“‘Easy,’ says Butch, and reaches for his gun.

“We all dived for the door, but me being held up on account of my missing leg, I was slow an’ couldn’t help seein’ what happened.  Butch was fast, but the young feller was faster.  He had Butch by the wrist before the gun came clear—­just gave a little twist—­and there he stood with the gun in his hand pointin’ into Butch’s face, and Butch sittin’ there like a feller in a trance or wakin’ up out of a bad dream.