ok of disappointment on the
face of Briggs, and he was stirred to compassion.

"Drink with me, sir," he said, turning to the overjoyed Briggs.

"Thank you, colonel. You're a gentleman!"

"Two glasses, Tim."

So the colonel drained a second glass, and Briggs, pouring out with
trembling fingers as much as he dared, followed suit.

When the last drop was drunk, he breathed a deep sigh of measureless
enjoyment.

"If either of you bring that boy in here," said Tim, "I'll stand a
couple of glasses for both."

"We're your men, Tim," said Hooker. "Ain't we, Briggs?"

"That's so, Hooker. Shake!"

And the poor victims of drink shook hands energetically. Long since
they had sunk their manhood in the intoxicating cup, and henceforth
lived only to gratify their unnatural craving for what would sooner or
later bring them to a drunkard's grave.

As they left the saloon, the colonel turned to Tim, and said:

"I like whiskey, sir; but I'll be hanged if I can respect such men as
those."

"They're bums, colonel, that's what they are!"

"How do they live?"

"Don't know. They're in here about every day."

"If it's drink that's brought them where they are, I'm half inclined
to give it up; but, after all, it isn't necessary to make a beast of
yourself. I always drink like a gentleman, sir."

"So you do, colonel."

At that moment a poor woman, in a faded calico dress with a thin shawl
over her shoulders, descended the steps that led into the saloon, and
walked up to the bar.

"Has my husband been here to-night?" she asked.

Tim Bolton frowned.

"Who's your husband?" he asked, roughly.

"Wilson."

"No, Bill Wilson hasn't been here to-night. Even if he had you have no
business to come after him. I don't want any sniveling women here."

"I couldn't help it, Mr. Bolton," said the woman, putting her apron to
her eyes. "If Bill comes in, won't you tell him to come home? The
baby's dead, and we haven't a cent in the house!"

Even Tim was moved by this.

"I'll tell him," he said. "Take a drink yourself; you don't look
strong. It shan't cost you a cent."

"No," said the woman, "not a drop! It has ruined my happiness, and
broken up our home! Not a drop!"

"Here, my good lady," said the colonel, with chivalrous deference,
"you have no money. Take this," and he handed the astonished woman a
five-dollar bill.

"Heaven bless you, sir!" she exclaimed, fervently.

"Allow me to see you to the street," and the gallant Sou