Olsen had been cleaning as usual, and had not noticed the Visitor till he started playing.
Now he only grinned, standing behind the bar and watching.
He knew who was playing there, even if he had never met the guest.
Without a comment he cleared a small place in the bar´s rack of spirits, fetched his finest bottle of Bourbon from the store and placed it there, with one of the small notices he had trained his clerks to mind reserving it for the new customer.
And listening to the music he now understood Fynns insistence on the piece of wood and strings.