and setting ice water to his puffy lips, which the lad gulped
thirstily. Thereafter he revived quickly but grew only the more morose
and sulky.

"All right," he muttered, "I'll go t' bed, only--leave me, see!"

"Can't I help you?"

"No--you lemme alone. Oh, I know--you think I'm soused, but I ain't;
I--I'm not drunk, I tell ye--I wish I was. I ain't no kid, so lemme
alone--an' I ain't drunk. What if me legs is shaky? So 'ud yours be if
you'd got--what I got. It was dat last swing t' d' jaw as done me--but
I ain't drunk 'n' I ain't a kid t' be undressed--so chase ye'self an'
lemme alone!"

"All right, Spike--only get to bed like a good chap before your sister
comes."

"You leave my sister alone; she ain't--that kind, an' she ain't fer you,
anyway."

"That will do, Arthur--get into bed! I'll give you five minutes!" So
saying, Ravenslee turned away, but, as he closed the door, his quick ear
detected the clink of glass, and turning, he saw Spike draw a small
flask from his pocket.

"Give me that stuff, old fellow."

"Oh, you can't con me! I ain't a kid, so you lemme alone!" and Spike
raised the flask to his lips, but in that instant it was snatched away.
Spike staggered back to the wall and leaned there, passing his hand to
and fro across his brow as though dazed, then stumbled out into the room
beyond.

"Gimme it, Geoff, gimme it!" he panted, "you won't keep it, no, no--Bud
slipped it to me after I come to. Gimme it, Geoff. I want t' forget--so
be a sport an' give it me--you will, won't ye?"

Ravenslee shook his head, whereat the boy broke out more passionately:

"Oh--don't ye see, Geoff--can't ye understand? I--I was knocked out
t'night--I took th' count! I--I'm done for, I had me chance, an' I
didn't make good! I--didn't--make good!" As he spoke, the lad hid his
bruised face within his hands, while great sobs shook him.

"Why, Spike! Why, Arthur, old chap--never mind--"

"Gimme th' bottle, Geoff! Be a pal an' gimme th' stuff--I want t'
forget!"

"This wouldn't help you."

"Give it me, d' ye hear--I want it--I'll have it, anyway--I'll--"
Spike's voice failed, and cowering back, he sank into a chair at sight
of her who stood within the doorway so very silent and pale of lip.

"Ah, don't, Hermy--don't look at me like that," he whispered. "Your eyes
hurt me! I ain't drunk--this time!"

"Oh, boy!" she sighed, "oh, boy--after all your promises!"

Spike rose with hands stretched out appealingly, but eve