“Say, boys,” said Vandover, pausing and
looking at his watch, “it isn’t very late;
let’s go downtown and have some oysters.”
“That’s a good idea,” answered young
Haight. “How about you, Charlie?”
Geary said he was willing. “Ah,”
he added, “you ought to have seen the beefsteak
I had this evening at the Grillroom.” And
as they rode downtown he told them of the steak in
question. “I had a little mug of ale with
it, too, and a dish of salad. Ah, it went great.”
They decided after some discussion that they would
go to the Imperial.
The Imperial was a resort not far from the corner
of Sutter and Kearney streets, a few doors below a
certain well-known drug store, in one window of which
was a showcase full of live snakes.
The front of the Imperial was painted white, and there
was a cigar-stand in the vestibule of the main entrance.
At the right of this main entrance was another smaller
one, a ladies’ entrance, on the frosted pane
of which one read, “Oyster Cafe.”
The main entrance opened directly into the barroom.
It was a handsome room, paved with marble flags.
To the left was the bar, whose counter was a single
slab of polished redwood. Behind it was a huge,
plate-glass mirror, balanced on one side by the cash-register
and on the other by a statuette of the Diving Girl
in tinted bisque. Between the two were pyramids
of glasses and bottles, liqueur flasks in wicker cases,
and a great bouquet of sweet-peas.
The three bartenders, in clean linen coats and aprons,
moved about here and there, opening bottles, mixing
drinks, and occasionally turning to punch the indicator
of the register.
On the other side of the room, facing the bar, hung
a large copy of a French picture representing a Sabbath,
witches, goats, and naked girls whirling through the
air. Underneath it was the lunch counter, where
clam-fritters, the specialty of the place, could be
had four afternoons in the week.
Elsewhere were nickel-in-the-slot machines, cigar-lighters,
a vase of wax flowers under glass, and a racing chart
setting forth the day’s odds, weights, and entries.
On the end wall over the pantry-slides was a second
“barroom” picture, representing the ladies
of a harem at their bath.
But its “private rooms” were the chief
attraction of the Imperial. These were reached
by going in through the smaller door to the right of
the main vestibule. Any one coming in through
this entrance found himself in a long and narrow passage.
On the right of this passage were eight private rooms,
very small, and open at the top as the law required.
Half-way down its length the passage grew wider.
Here the rooms were on both sides and were much larger
than those in front.
It was this part of the Imperial that was most frequented,
and that had made its reputation. In the smaller
rooms in front one had beer and Welsh rabbits; in
the larger rooms, champagne and terrapin.
