They came ambling down the depopulated, sun-filled street, one by one; stopping opposite a rickety building that formerly housed Jack’s Dollar Bar; looking about them with careless, uninterested glances, then dodging into a stairway that led to the story above the erstwhile bar, and entering a barn-like room, empty of furniture save for a huge sheet-iron stove, a card table and four chairs. The floor of the room was deep with sawdust, and, superimposed on this, in the immediate vicinity of the table, was a layer of torn cards, cigar stubs and other miscellaneous debris. On the table reposed a solitary plug of very black tobacco and four water glasses. The air was redolent with the odor of st…
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