He was considered a man of some importance in the place. But this was
probably the result of the nature of his trade, which, in the eyes of
the denizens of the neighborhood, certainly possessed an advantage over
such stodgy callings as "dry goods." But besides the all-important
thirst-quenching purpose of his establishment, it had become a sort of
bureau for large and small transactions of a ranching nature, and a
resort where every sort of card game could be freely indulged in,
without regard for the limit of the stakes, and had thus gained for
itself the subsidiary title amongst its clientele of "Ju's Poker Joint."
At the moment Ju's usually busy tongue was taking a well-earned rest,
and his hawk-like visage was shrouded in a deep, contemplative repose.
His always bloodshot eyes were speculative as he surveyed the
smoke-laden scene from behind his shabby bar. The place was full of
drinkers and gamblers. The hour was past midnight. And he was
estimating silently the further spending possibilities of his
customers, and consequently considering the advisability of closing
down.
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