It was prohibition country. As soon as the train pulled up, a seedy little man with a covered basket on his arm hurried to the open windows of the smoker and exhibited a quart bottle filled with rich, dark fluid.
"Want to buy some nice cold tea?" he asked, with just the suspicion of a wink.
Two thirsty-looking cattlemen brightened visibly, and each paid a dollar for a bottle.
"Wait until you get outer the station before you take a drink," the little man cautioned them. "I don't wanter get in trouble."
He found three other customers before the train pulled out, in each case repeating his warning.
"You seem to be doing a pretty good business," remarked a man who had watched it all. "But I don't see why you'd run any more risk of getting in trouble if they took a drink before the train started."
"Ye don't, hey? Well, what them bottles had in 'em, pardner, was real cold tea."
