seeing that Tom looked a little puzzled, "and there ain't no worse
insult than to refuse to drink with a man. There have been scores of men
shot, ay, and hundreds, for doing so. I don't say that you may not put
water in, but if you refuse to drink you had best do it with your hand
on the butt of your gun, for you will want to get it out quick, I can
tell you."

"There is one advantage in such a custom anyhow," Tom said, "it will
keep anyone who does not want to drink from entering a saloon at all."

"That is so, lad," Pete Hoskings said heartily. "I keep a saloon, and
have made money by it, but for all that I say to every young fellow who
hopes to make his way some time, keep out of them altogether. In country
places you must go to a saloon to get a square meal, but everyone drinks
tea or coffee with their food, and there is no call to stay in the place
a minute after you have finished. Calling for drinks round has been the
ruin of many a good man; one calls first, then another calls, and no one
likes to stand out of it, and though you may only have gone in for one
glass, you may find you will have to drink a dozen before you get out."

"Why, you are a downright temperance preacher, Pete," one of the miners
laughed.

"I don't preach to a seasoned old hoss like you, Jerry. I keep my
preaching for those who may benefit by it, such as the youngster here;
but I say to him and to those like him, you keep out of saloons. If you
don't do that, you will find yourself no forwarder when you are fifty
than you are now, while there are plenty of openings all over the
country for any bright young fellow who will keep away from liquor."