Henry scooped the coins up and counted them out.
"That would be another five hundred dollars of your time's currency. Quite the haul for an hours worth of work." Henry said.
"Does this happen every night?" Jason asked.
"Not every night, but sometimes the advice is better currency than gold, am I right?" Henry asked.
Henry put the five hundred dollars on the bar and Jason quickly pocketed it.
"Um, if you mean I'm gonna be mind fucked by people of the past; then, yeah, that's almost as good as currency." Jason said.
Henry chuckled.
"That should be good enough for the night Mr. Ross." Henry said.
Jason gave Henry another look.
"Henry David Thoreau."
"Yes?" Henry asked.
"So it is you?"
"Well, why wouldn't it be?"
"Well, you've dead for at least a century?"
Henry scratched his ear and pulled his pipe back out.
"Have I?" He asked as he lit the tobacco.
"Well, I guess not?"
"The magick of the Pub." Henry winked.
"Am I going to find this place again?"
"Why wouldn't you? You ARE my new barback after all."
"Until tomorrow then Mr. Thoreau."
Henry nodded as Jason stepped outside the Pub.