Unless I was mistaken, little sister was resorting to magic in this brawl or else she wouldn't have gotten that extra bounce on a horizontal throw. Either that or she was really annoyed! I debated whether or not to chide her for breaking our unwritten rules regarding no magic in bar-room brawls, but decided to let it slide. On the off chance that she was simply overly perturbed, such comment would only invite retaliation, and Tananda can be quite a handful even when she isn't steaming.
By this time, the din inside had ceased and an ominous stillness prevailed. I figured it was jolly well time I checked things out, so I edged my way along the wall and peeked through the door.
With the exception of one lonely chair which seemed to have escaped unscathed, the place was a wreck with everything in splinters or tatters. Bodies, limp or moaning, were strewn casually about the wreckage, giving the overall effect of a battlefield after a hard fight... which, of course, it was.
The only surprising element in the scene was Tananda. Instead of proudly surveying the carnage, as was her normal habit, she was leaning against the bar chatting quietly with the bartender. This puzzle was rapidly solved, as the individual in question glanced up and saw my rather distinctive features in the doorway.
"Hey, Chumley! Come join us in a drink to my long over due remodeling."
Tananda glanced my way sharply, then nodded her approval.
"Come on in, big brother. You'll never guess who owns this dive."
"I think I just figured it out, actually," I said, helping myself to a drink from a broken bottle that was perched on the bar. "Hello, Weasel. Bit of a ways from your normal prowl grounds, aren't you?"
"Not anymore," he shrugged. "This is home sweet home these days. Can't think of anyplace else I've been that would let me operate as a respectable businessman."
Tananda gagged slightly on her drink.
"A respectable businessman? C'mon, Weasel. This is Tananda and Chumley you're talking to. How long have we known you? I don't believe you've had an honest thought that whole time."
Weasel shook his head sadly.
"Look around you, sweetheart. This is my place... or at least it used to be. Been running it fair and square for some time now. It may not be as exciting as my old lifestyle, but it's easily as profitable since I never lose any time in the slammer."
Little sister was opening her mouth to make another snide remark when I elbowed her in the ribs. While I'm not above a bit of larceny myself from time to time, I figured that if Weasel genuinely wanted to go straight, the least we could do is not give him a hard time about it.
"So tell me, old chap," I said. "What brought about this amazing reform? A good woman or a bad caper?"
"Neither, actually. The way it was, see, was that I was framed ... no, really, this time. I hadn't done a thing, but all the evidence had me pegged for being guilty as sin. I thought I had really had it, but this guy pops up and backs me hard. I mean, he springs for a really good mouthpiece, and when the jury finds me guilty anyway, he talks to the judge and gets me a suspended sentence. As if that weren't enough, after I'm loose again, he spots me the cash I need to start this place ... a nice no-interest loan. ‘Pay it back when you can,' he sez. I'll tell you, I ain't never had anybody believe in me like that before. Kinda made me think things over about how I was always saying that I had to be a crook ‘cause no one would give me a fair shake. Well, sir, I decided to give the honest life a try... and haven't regretted it yet."
"This mysterious benefactor you mentioned ... his name wouldn't happen to be Hoos, would it?"
"That's right, Chumley. Easily the finest man I've ever met. You see, I'm not the only one he's helped out. Most of the people in this dimension have had some kind of hand up from him at one time or another. I'm not surprised you've heard of him."
Tananda trotted out her best smile.
"That brings us to why I'm here. Weasel. I'm trying to find this Hoos character, and so far the locals haven't been very helpful. Can you give me an introduction, or at least point me in a direction?"
The smile that had been on Weasel's face disappeared as if he had just been told he was left out of a rich uncle's will. His eyes lost their focus, and he licked his lips nervously.
"Sorry, Tananda, "he said. "Can't help you there."
"Wait a minute, old buddy." Tananda's smile was a little forced now. "You must know where to find him. Where do you make your payments on this place?"
"Made the last payment half a year ago. Now if you'll excuse me ..."
Tananda had him by the sleeve before he could take a step.
"You're holding out on me. Weasel," she snarled, abandoning any attempt at sweetness. "Now either you tell me where I can find this Hoos character or I'll..."
"You'll what? Wreck the place? You're a little late there, sweetheart. You want the last chair, be my guest. It doesn't match the rest of the decor now, anyway."
From little sister's expression, I was pretty sure what she was thinking of destroying wasn't the chair, so I thought I'd better get my oar in before things got completely out of hand.
"If you don't mind my asking, old chap, is there any particular reason you're being so obstinate over a simple request?"
Tananda gave me one of her "stay out of this" looks, but Weasel didn't seem to mind the interruption.
"Are you kidding?" he said. "Maybe you weren't listening, but I owe this guy ... a lot more than just paying back a loan. He gave me a chance to start over when everybody else had written me off. I'm supposed to show my appreciation by setting a couple of goons on his trail?"
"Goons?"
She said it very softly, but I don't think anyone in the room mistook Tananda's meaning. In fact, a few of her earlier playmates who were still conscious started crawling toward the door in an effort to put more distance between themselves and the pending explosion.
Weasel, however, remained uncowed.
"Yeah, goons. What happened in here a few minutes ago? An ice-cream social?"
"He's got you there, little sister."
That brought her head around with a snap.
"Shutup, Chumley!" she snarled. "This is my assignment. Remember?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way. I do think Weasel has a point, though. You really don't give the impression of someone who wants a peaceful chat."
At first I thought she was going to go for my throat. Then she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
"Point taken," she said, releasing her grip. "Weasel, I really just want to talk to this guy Hoos. No rough stuff, I promise."
The bartender pursed his lips.
"I don't know, Tananda. I'd like to believe you. I suppose if Chumley says it's on the up-and-up ..."
That did it. Tananda spun on her heel and headed for the door.
"If it takes Chumley's say-so, then forget it. Okay? I'll do this my way, without help, even if it kills someone."
"Hey, don't go away mad," Weasel called after her. "Tell you what I'll do. When the police ask what happened here, I'll keep your name out of it, okay? I'll just play dumb and collect from the insurance. It'll kill my rates, but ..."
"Don't ruin your new record on my account. Total up the damages and I'll cover the cost personally."
With that she slammed out into the street, cutting off any further conversation.
"Is she kidding?" Weasel said. "It's gonna cost a bundle to fix this place up again."
"I really don't know, old boy. She's really mad, but by the same token, she's mad enough that I wouldn't cross her. If I were you, I'd start totaling up the damages. Eh, what?"
"I hear that," he nodded. "Well, you'd better get after her before she gets into trouble. Sorry to be such a hard case, but ..."