In a week Johnny and his acute vision had become a bye-word in that part
of the country and his friends had made it a practice to stop him and
gravely discuss spirit manifestations of all kinds. He had thrashed Wood
Wright and been thrashed by Sandy Lucas in two beautiful and memorable
fights and was only waiting to recover from the last affair before
having the matter out with Rich Finn. These facts were beginning to have
the effect he strove for; though Cowan still sold a new concoction of
gin, brandy, and whiskey which he called "Flying Ghost," and which he
proudly guaranteed would show more ghosts per drink than any liquor
south of the Rio Grande--and some of his patrons were eager to back up
his claims with real money.
This was the condition of affairs when Hopalong Cassidy strolled into
Cowan's and forgot his thirst in the story being told by a strange
Mexican. It was Johnny's ghost, without a doubt, and when he had
carelessly asked a few questions he was convinced that Johnny had really
seen something. On the way home he cogitated upon it and two points
challenged his intelligence with renewed insistence: the ghost showed
itself only on Friday, and then only to "Greasers." His suspicious mind
would not rest until he had reviewed the question from all sides, and
his opinion was that there was something more than spiritual about the
ghost of the San Miguel--and a cold, practical reason for it.
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