Arizona Round-Up — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

18 WILLIAM HOPSON bar of mahogany wood running the entire length of the north wall. Back of it were three bartenders in clean white jackets and aprons, men with neatly plastered hair parted in the middle and barber-trimmed mustaches. The east wall held a line of green- topped poker tables behind which were two raised plattorms, each with a single padded chair. Only one man was on duty there at this time of the day, and he was half asleep, the short-barrelled shotgun cradled across his lap. The center of the huge room con- tained the faro and roulette and dice game layouts, while the south wall carried another bar, this one lower and fitted with stools. Through a hole in the wall he saw kitchen help scurrying around, getting ready for the evening rush. Tex went over and found himself a seat on the west end of the food counter. Several men were eating farther down but paid him no heed. He twisted around to face the room and let his eyes play over the scene and the upstairs banister above. This pro- claimed rooms; perhaps for big games, for guests, for private en- tertainment. He didn’t know, nor was he interested. One of the rooms over the northeast corner had heavy drapes of some red cloth, and his conjecture proved to be correct when they parted and Lily Owens came out, followed by the gaunt form of Deacon Sellers. “The old devil hasn't changed a bit in looks since the old days,” Bumett grinned to himself. He turned his back again, knowing they had seen him. He knew now where Three-Finger Charley had gone when he'd cashed in his chips at the Pound and hurriedly slid out the back door. He and Tommy Ace-in-the-Hole too. | A waiter dipped a tin cup into a large keg of water and brought it over and placed it on the counter. He looked a ques- tion, and Deacon Sellers slid his cadaverous form with its bony face above a long black coat onto the stool next to Burnett's. “Hello, Tex,” he said. Tex looked at the waiter. “What have you got for a hungry man?” he asked, ignoring the Deacon. “Boiled beef or fried, same in deer, and I think we even got some bar meat one of the night cooks shot t’other day.” “If he shot it the other day, I'll take the beef,” Tex grinned. comicbooks.com