set everybody to
talking about and praising the boy made him feel ten times worse. It
would be hard to convict him of stealing the letter while almost
everybody was making a lion of him.

"Ah, Zeke!" exclaimed Captain Chinks, as the tippler entered the saloon.

"How d'y do, cap'n?" replied the nominal head of the family.

"I'm glad to see you, Zeke. I've been wanting to see you. Won't you take
something?"

"Thank ye; I don't care if I do take a little o' sunthin'. I don't feel
jest right to-night," answered Ezekiel, placing his hand upon his
diaphragm, to intimate that this was the seat of his ailing.

"We will go into this little room, if you like," added Captain Chinks,
as he led the way into a small apartment, where a party could dine or
sup in privacy. "Give us a bottle of _that_ brandy," he continued,
addressing the keeper of the saloon.

Ezekiel smiled, for a private room indicated a free-and-easy time. A
bottle of brandy promised a succession of drams, enough to warm up that
disagreeable coldness at the diaphragm, and to lift his brain up to the
pitch of a tippler's highest enjoyment. Then "_that_ brandy" suggested a
liquor of choice quality, something which his companion had tested, and
knew to be good. Ezekiel was happy, and for the moment he forgot that he
was not the actual head of the family; that his wife had kept money "hid
away from him;" and that her son had destroyed his property. But he
wondered what Captain Chinks could want of him, for that worthy did not
generally treat him with much consideration, whereas now he was polite,
generous, and ready to invest to the extent of a whole bottle of _that_
brandy, which must be very choice, and therefore expensive.

The bottle came, and the door of the little room was closed. Captain
Chinks seated himself on one side of the table, on which the bottle and
glasses were placed, and invited Ezekiel to occupy a chair on the other
side. The captain pushed the brandy and a glass towards his guest, who
needed no persuasion to induce him to partake of the choice liquor. He
poured out about half a tumbler of the stuff, but he kept his hand over
the glass,--he was a wily toper,--so that his host should not see how
much he took. He added a very little water to the fiery fluid, and then
held the glass in his trembling hand till the captain was ready to join
him. The man with a doubtful reputation did not cover his glass with his
hand; if he had thought it necessary,