little better for that. Curiosity had hold of him now like an itch.
"We ain't got no use for a dentist this fur west of Dodge," Jim speculated aloud again. "People's borned with teeth out here and never loses 'em—they've got all the teeth they need. What's worryin' most of 'em is gittin' something to chaw between 'em."
"I expect that's the big question everywhere," Hall agreed.
He went to the window, where he stood looking out, his long legs spread a little in a rather ungainly way, hands in his pockets, the skirts of his black coat held back in that lawyer-like fashion of parting the curtain to display the watch-chain and vest.
"If you're lookin' for a business openin' this hotel's for sale," Jim suggested.
"Not at all," Hall replied indifferently. "I'm not a—business man, Mr ?"
"Jestice," prompted Jim.
"Mr. Justice. Thank you; hope to know you better."
"Lookin' at you," Jim replied, in his most elegant barroom style. "Just out here to take your pleasure and look around, heh?"
"I expect to settle here, Mr. Justice, for a while, at least. I'm an Esculapian."
"A which?"
"Esculapian; a plain Esculapian."
"Might as well be a ruffled one for all the difference it'd make to me," Jim declared, highly resentful, feeling that the guest was poking covert fun at him, which was not altogether wrong.
