"Come, now, Jimmy," Hanson's tone was bantering; he rapped on the bar in
playful emphasis, but there was anxiety in his glance. "You're just
trying to work up a little excitement. A show down now, a show down."

"Kid me all you please," chuckled Jimmy, with imperturbable good humor,
"but, take it from me, something special's been doing. Bob's not one to
talk about his or any one's else business, but if he's going off on any
little trip he's likely to mention it. And, when he comes back, he'll
tell you this or that he's seen or heard, just like other folks. But
this time, not a word. Glum as an oyster. You just bet," Jimmy
emphasized the statement with a series of nods, "that somethin's going
on. Him and Gallito have had their heads too close. And that old fox is
usually up to some mischief."

"What kind?" asked Hanson quickly.

"I don't know," answered Jimmy, and Hanson saw to his relief that the
bar-keeper was sincere, and that he was to his own manifest regret as
ignorant as he appeared. "But," he added shrewdly, "you been taking up a
good deal of the Pearl's time and attention, and Bob ain't going to
stand that from anybody very long."

"He ain't, ain't he?" the insolence of Hanson's tone was touched with
triumph.

"No," said Jimmy simply, "he ain't; and so I kind of feel that this trip
of his had something to do with you. And, say, Mr. Hanson," there was a
touch of embarrassment in his voice, "you and me's been pretty good
friends since you been here, and I thought I'd just give you the tip."