n Winters might weary of his cramped quarters, and attempt to
escape by first shooting his employer. Would the policeman never come?
He heard steps and voices in the distance.

"Come out here, old moon, and give a fellow a little light on the
subject. What you pouting about, I'd like to know? You haven't got to
blunder along home in the dark. This is the most extraordinary street I
ever saw anyhow; it keeps whirling round and turning somersaults,
instead of walking straight ahead like a respectable street."

The voice that uttered these disjointed sentences was only too well
known to Theodore. He stepped down one step and spoke in a low tone:

"Pliny, what does this mean? Where are you going?"

"Going round like a top, first on my head and then on my heels. How are
you?"

Poor Theodore! the plot thickened. What should he do with this poor
drunkard? Could he endure to let him stagger to his home to that waiting
sister in this condition? A shrill, sharp, merry whistle broke at this
moment on his ear; that voice he knew too, and waited until its owner
came up; then addressed him still in low tones:

"Tommy, where are you going?"

"Going home--been to a fire--whole block burned down by the square, Mr.
Stuart's house and--"

Theodore checked his voluble information.

"Have you seen anything of McPherson?"

"Yes, sir; he was at the fire too. Just whisked around the corner below
here to go to his rooms. We came up together."

Theodore's listening ear caught the sound of an approaching policeman,
and he hastened his plans. Pliny had sunk down on the steps and was
muttering to himself in drunken, broken sentences.

"Tommy," said Theodore, addressing that individual, "there are empty
carriages coming around the corner; the train is in. Will you take this
young man in a carriage, drive to McPherson's door, and tell him to
drive to my rooms with you, and make this gentleman comfortable till I
come? Can I trust you, Tommy?"

"Yes, _sir_, every time," Tommy answered, proudly.

The policeman came up.

"What's all this?" he asked, gruffly.

Theodore turned to him and spoke a few words in a low rapid tone, and he
moved hastily away. Then Theodore came back to Pliny.

"Will you go and spend the night with me at my rooms, Pliny?" he asked,
gently.

"Well," said Pliny, trying to rouse himself from his half stupor, "I
_did_ promise Doralinda Mirinda that I'd come home, but seeing the
street has taken such a confounded