A Different Trade Read Online Free PDF Page B

beer. It’s twenty-five cents.”
    â€œBut the first one was free,” Clint pointed out.
    â€œRight. As a thank-you for stepping in with Westin. I’m sure you’d like it if every drink was free here from now on, but that just wouldn’t be good business.”
    â€œI suppose not.”
    â€œStill want that beer?”
    â€œSure.”
    As the barkeep went about a few small chores, there was a certain hunch to his back and look in his eyes that made him seem like a man bearing an excessive weight on his shoulders. Clint knew that feeling all too well. “So,” he said after his next sip of beer, “what’s in the bottles?”
    One of Leo’s eyebrows perked up, and he glanced back at him with renewed interest. “You don’t really care about that.”
    â€œSure I do.”
    â€œYou stormed out of here the last time I tried to show you. Is this just your way of throwing a dog a bone?”
    â€œMy curiosity is sparked,” Clint said. “I’m still here and I’d like to see what all of this effort was for, but I’m not about to beg for the privilege.”
    â€œAll right. Fair enough.” Leo hurried over to the shelf behind the bar, which was prominently displayed at the center of the wooden counter and just high enough to avoid being blocked by Leo’s mess of red hair. He carefully took one of the bottles down and carried it over to where Clint was sitting. Lowering it behind the bar, he said, “I’m curious about something also.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œWhen Westin was here, did you know what to expect?”
    â€œNope. I just got into town and it took me a hell of a lot longer to find this place than I thought it would. I saw him pushing you around and thought I could step in.”
    â€œActually, I meant when you jumped back here where I’m standing,” Leo said. “How’d you know I kept a shotgun back here?”
    Clint shrugged. “I’ve been to more saloons than I can count. If there wasn’t a shotgun somewhere back there to deal with rowdy customers, there was bound to be a club or some other such thing I could have put to use.”
    â€œPredictable, eh?”
    â€œFortunately, for your sake,” Clint replied while lifting his glass, “yes.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you just draw your pistol?”
    â€œAre all these questions necessary just for me to see that bottle? If so, I think I’ll finish my beer in peace and allow my curiosity to fade on its own.”
    â€œNo, I’m just curious as well,” Leo said as he placed the bottle on the bar. “A man in my line of work sometimes runs afoul of characters like Westin. I just thought it might help if I could learn whatever might—”
    Since Leo seemed serious about wanting to know and didn’t seem ready to stop talking anytime soon, Clint said, “Intimidation.”
    â€œYou don’t think a pistol would have been enough?”
    â€œObviously your man Westin wasn’t the sort to be swayed by threats or just another gun being waved at him. Damn near any man tends to think twice when he’s on the wrong end of a scattergun. At the very least, it makes him stop what he’s doing for a spell.”
    â€œAnd what if there had just been a club or something like that under here?”
    Clint answered that by patting the gun on his hip.
    â€œI see,” Leo said.
    â€œSo,” Clint said, “does all of that grant me the answer to my original question or do I have to wait some more?”
    Leo flinched as if he’d forgotten completely about the bottle in front of him. “Oh, yes! This bottle contains one of my finest ideas in regard to my business to date.”
    â€œYou own this place outright?”
    â€œThe Dog? Naturally.”
    â€œAnd you expect a new brand of liquor to bring people in by the cartload?”
    â€œNot just a new brand,”