"Pale Annie" he was called because his real name was Anderson Hawberry
Sandringham. That name had been a great aid to him when he was an
undertaker in Kansas City; but Anderson Hawberry Sandringham had fallen
from the straight and narrow path of good undertakers some years before
and he had sought refuge in the mountain-desert, where most things
prosper except sheriffs and grass. He was fully six inches more than six
feet in height and his face was so long and pale that even Haw-Haw
Langley seemed cheerful beside the ex-undertaker. In Kansas City this
had been much prized, for that single face could lend solemnity to any
funeral. In Elkhead it was hardly less of an asset.
People came out of curiosity to see Pale Annie behind the bar with his
tall silk hat--which he could never bring himself to lay aside--among
the cobwebs of the rafters. They came out of curiosity and they remained
to drink--which is a habit in the mountain-desert. A travelling drummer
or a patent medicine man had offered Pale Annie a handsome stake to
simply go about with him and lend the sanction of his face to the talk
of the drummer, but Pale Annie had discovered a veritable philosopher's
stone in Elkhead and he was literally turning whiskey into gold.
This day was even more prosperous than usual for Pale Annie, for the
grey weather and the chilly air made men glad of the warmth, both
external and internal, which Pale Annie possessed in his barroom.
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