He rose to his feet, a vast, round, deep man, glowing with health and energy.
"I once quieted a bull, Ma'am," said he, "by the horns. I would a held him till help came if one of the horns hadn't come off, and he ran away."
The proprietor entered the conversation with an insinuating wedge of a voice.
"I don't like to mind other folks' business," he said, "but if the lady is fretting about bein' out all night with a total stranger, I feel it my dooty to remark that in Grub City there is a justice of the peace." He bowed and made a gesture which either indicated his whole person, or that smug and bulging portion of it to which the gesture was more directly applied.
Saterlee and the lady did not look at each other and laugh. They were painfully embarrassed.
"Nothing like a sound splice," suggested the Justice, still hopeful of being helpful. "Failing that, you've a long row to hoe, and I suggest a life saver for the gent and a nip o' the same for the lady. I'd like you to see the bar," he added. "Mine is the show place of this here city--mirrors--peacock feathers--Ariadne in the nood--cash register--and everything hunky-dunk."
"We'll go you," said Saterlee. "At any rate, I will."
"Oh, I must see, too," said the lady, and both were relieved at the turn which the conversation had taken.
The proprietor removed the cheese-cloth fly protector from the two-by-three mirror over the bar, slipped a white jacket over his blue shirt, and rubbed his hands together invitingly, as if washing them.
As the lady approached the bar she stumbled. Saterlee caught her by the elbow.
"That rail down there," he said, "ain't to trip over. It's to rest your foot on. So." He showed her. With the first sign of humor that she had shown, the lady suddenly and very capitally mimicked his attitude. And in a tough voice (really an excellent piece of acting): "What's yours, kid?" she said. And then blushed to the eyes, and was very much ashamed of herself. But Saterlee and the bartender were delighted. They roared with laughter.
"Next thing," said the bartender, "she'll pull a gun and shoot up the place."
"I want to be in it," said the lady. "Can you make me something that looks like a drink, and isn't?"
"Scotch," said the proprietor without hesitation.