"Don't she though. Silks ain't nothin' to her. She's a clipper when she
agonizes."

Fearing, if he kept up the conversation much longer, that the bar-keeper
would suspect his game, Sam called for another cigar, and picking up a
deck of cards which lay on the table, suggested a game of "seven up."
The bar-keeper seated himself with his back to the window, Sam still
holding his post of survey.

The game was only just begun, when the fortune-teller, carrying a small
bottle, apparently of medicine, returned and entered the door.

Sam's interest in the game died out shortly after, and patrons beginning
to appear, the bar-keeper took his accustomed place behind the bar.

The room gradually filled up, and taking advantage of a little crowd
near the door, Sam quietly slipped through the door and walked straight
across to the fortune-teller's house.

As he entered, the inner door was opened and the dark woman herself
appeared.

With inimitable assurance the detective removed his hat and advanced
toward her.

Drawing herself up to her full height, the sibyl in a deep, solemn voice
said:

"What brings you here?"