A faint hope, which had been growing
dimmer and dimmer with every passing year, began to flicker once again
within his heart. He desired to see this man Murphy, and to learn
exactly what he knew.
He had planned his work, and was perfectly prepared to meet its
dangers. He entered the almost deserted saloon opposite the hotel,
across the threshold of which he had not stepped for two years, and the
man behind the bar glanced up apprehensively.
"Red Slavin?" he said. "Well, now see here, Hampton, we don't want no
trouble in this shebang."
"I 'm not here seeking a fight, Jim," returned the inquirer, genially.
"I merely wish to ask 'Red' an unimportant question or two."
"He's there in the back room, I reckon, but he's damn liable to take a
pot shot at you when you go in."
Hampton's genial smile only broadened, as he carelessly rolled an
unlighted cigar between his lips.
"It seems to me you are becoming rather nervous for this line of
business, Jim. You should take a good walk in the fresh air every
morning, and let up on the liquor. I assure you, Mr. Slavin is one of
my most devoted friends, and is of that tender disposition he would not
willingly injure a fly.
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