the last two days.
“What’ll it be, gents?” the bartender asked, sliding down the bar with a towel tossed across his shoulder. The fact that the towel was relatively clean spoke volumes about the class of the establishment.
“Two beers,” Falcon said.
“And I’ll have the same,” Duff said.
The bartender laughed. “You boys seem to have worked up a thirst.”
“Long ride,” Falcon said.
“Where’d you boys come from? Not that it’s any of my business,” he added quickly, holding up his hand to indicate that they didn’t need to answer.
“I take your question as friendly discourse and have no problem with answering,” Duff said. “Especially since we will be neighbors and I expect to visit your establishment from time to time. We rode up from Cheyenne.”
“That is a long ride,” the bartender said as he drew the four beers. Then holding the mugs by their handles, two in each hand, he set them in front of Duff and Falcon. Both men pulled out two nickels apiece, but the bartender took only one nickel from each of them.
“First beer to a first-time visitor is free,” he said.
“That’s very neighborly of you,” Falcon said.
Both Falcon and Duff turned up their mugs and drained them without pause. Then, both finishing about the same time, they put the empties down.
Duff wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That one was for thirst,” he said as he picked up the second mug. “This one is for taste.”
This time he took only one sip before he put the mug down again.
“Do you serve food here?” Falcon asked. “Or do we need to find a restaurant?”
“Bacon, beans, biscuits,” the bartender replied. “The biscuits ought to be pretty good. I was just back in the kitchen and they are about ready to come out.”
“What do you think, Duff?”
“I’m not likely to get haggis, taties, or neeps, so bacon, beans, and biscuits will do just fine.”
“You’re from Scotland,” the bartender said with a broad smile. “I thought I recognized your accent.”
“Ye have a good ear for accents,” Duff said.
“Not really. But my wife’s parents are from Scotland, so I am familiar with the brogue. And with haggis, taties, and neeps. Though I have to tell you, I can’t stand the stuff.” He stuck his hand out. “If we’re going to be neighbors, as you say, we may as well get acquainted. The name is Johnson, Biff Johnson.”
“Duff MacCallister,” Duff replied.
“Duff? Hmm, Duff and Biff, we shouldn’t have any trouble remembering our names,” Biff said.
Duff chuckled, then turned toward Falcon. “This is my kinsman, Falcon.”
“Yes, Falcon, I thought I recognized you,” Biff said, shaking Falcon’s hand.
“Do we know each other, Biff?” Falcon asked.
“It’s been a while but . . .” Biff paused in mid statement. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Falcon shook his head. “I’m sorry, friend, I can’t say that I do remember you.”
“I’ll let you think about it for a while,” Biff said. “I believe it will come to you.”
“Biff,” Duff said. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of that name.”
Biff chuckled. “Not likely that you would have. My real name is Benjamin Franklin Johnson. But that was too long a handle so folks started calling me B.F., and, somehow, that became Biff. What about eats? Do you want what we have?”
“We’ll take it,” Falcon said. Scooping a couple of boiled eggs from the large jar that sat on the end of the bar, he handed one to Duff. Then the two of them took the boiled eggs and their beer to a nearby table. It didn’t take long for one of the bar girls to approach them.
“Hello,” she said, smiling her greeting at them. “My name is Lucy.”
Lucy was tall, raw-boned, and full-breasted. She had wide-set, blue-gray eyes, high cheekbones, and a mouth that was almost too full. “Have I seen you two in here before?”
“Not likely, we just got into town,” Falcon answered.
Duff stood up and pulled a chair out for her by way of invitation.
“My, aren’t you the gentleman though?” Lucy asked. “Most of the time someone just kicks the chair out with their foot and expects me to be all grateful that they have invited me to sit down.”
“
“Oh, my. What a lovely accent.”
Duff held the chair until Lucy was seated, then she let out a long sigh. “If you hadn’t invited me to sit down I may have anyway. I’ve been on my feet all day.”
“No big thing, you’re a whore so you’ll be on your back all night,” a big man from the next table said. He laughed heartily at his joke, though no one else in the saloon did.
