Watching the men who drank and played like school boys about the room, and
looking at the bottle sitting on the bar, the contents of which had for
the moment taken the sombre dulness out of the lives of the workmen, Sam
said to himself, "I will take up this trade. It may appeal to me. At least
I shall be selling forgetfulness and not be wasting my life with this
tramping on the road and thinking."
The saloon in which he worked was a profitable one and although in an
obscure place had made its proprietor what is called "well fixed." It had
a side door opening into an alley and one went up this alley to the main
street of the town. The front door looking upon the railroad tracks was
but little used, perhaps at the noon hour two or three young men from the
freight depot down the tracks would come in by it and stand about drinking
beer, but the trade that came down the alley and in at the side door was
prodigious. All day long men hurried in at this door, took drinks and
hurried out again, looking up the alley and running quickly when they
found the way clear. These men all drank whiskey, and when Sam had worked
for a few days in the place he once made the mistake of reaching for the
bottle when he heard the door open.
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