e table, unable to conceal her
trembling. He became unpleasantly aware of the feeling of his brother's
fingers on his hand. Quite unconsciously he wiped the back of the hand
upon his coat. The clock ticked on in the silence. It seemed to George
that the room reverberated with his voice. He could hear himself still
speaking.

"I'll go," came from the Morris chair.

It was a weak and shaken voice, and it was a weak and shaken man that
pulled himself out of the Morris chair. He started toward the door.

"Where are you going?" George demanded.

"Suit case," came the response. "Mary'll send the trunk later. I'll be
back in a minute."

The door closed after him. A moment later, struck with sudden suspicion,
George was opening the door. He glanced in. His brother stood at a
sideboard, in one hand a decanter, in the other hand, bottom up and to
his lips, a whisky glass.

Across the glass Al saw that he was observed. It threw him into a panic.
Hastily he tried to refill the glass and get it to his lips; but glass
and decanter were sent smashing to the floor. He snarled. It was like
the sound of a wild beast. But the grip on his shoulder subdued and
frightened him. He was being propelled toward the door.

"The suit case," he gasped. "It's there in that room. Let me get it."

"Where's the key?" his brother asked, when he had brought it.

"It isn't locked."

The next moment the suit case was spread open, and George's hand was
searching the contents. From one side it brought out a bottle of whisky,
from the other side a flask. He snapped the case to.

"Come on," he said. "If we miss one car, we miss that train."

He went out into the hallway, leaving Al with his wife. It was like a
funeral, George thought, as he waited.

His brother's overcoat caught on the knob of the front door and delayed
its closing long enough for Mary's first sob to come to their ears.
George's lips were very thin and compressed as he went down the steps.
In one hand he carried the suit case. With the other hand he held his
brother's arm.

As they neared the corner, he heard the electric car a block away,
and urged his brother on. Al was breathing hard. His feet dragged and
shuffled, and he held back.

"A hell of a brother YOU are," he panted.

For reply, he received a vicious jerk on his arm. It reminded him of his
childhood when he was hurried along by some angry grown-up. And like a
child, he had to be helped up the car step. He sank dow