er; it's not quite proper for Jervis's eyes.

You remember my telling you the case of Thomas Kehoe, whom we placed
out last June? He had an alcoholic heredity on both sides, and as a baby
seems to have been fattened on beer instead of milk. He entered the
John Grier at the age of nine, and twice, according to his record in
the Doomsday Book, he managed to get himself intoxicated, once on beer
stolen from some workmen, and once (and thoroughly) on cooking brandy.
You can see with what misgivings we placed him out. But we warned the
family (hard-working temperate farming people) and hoped for the best.

Yesterday the family telegraphed that they could keep him no longer.
Would I please meet him on the six o'clock train? Turnfelt met the six
o'clock train. No boy. I sent a night message telling of his non-arrival
and asking for particulars.

I stayed up later than usual last night putting my desk in order
and--sort of making up my mind to face the New Year. Toward twelve I
suddenly realized that the hour was late and that I was very tired. I
had begun getting ready for bed when I was startled by a banging on
the front door. I stuck my head out of the window and demanded who was
there.

"Tommy Kehoe," said a very shaky voice.

I went down and opened the door, and that lad, sixteen years old,
tumbled in, dead drunk. Thank Heaven! Percy Witherspoon was within call,
and not away off in the Indian camp.

I roused him, and together we conveyed Thomas to our guest room, the
only decently isolated spot in the building. Then I telephoned for the
doctor, who, I am afraid, had already had a long day. He came, and we
put in a pretty terrible night. It developed afterward that the boy had
brought along with his luggage a bottle of liniment belonging to his
employer. It was made half of alcohol and half of witch hazel; and
Thomas had refreshed his journey with this!

He was in such shape that positively I didn't think we'd pull him
through--and I hoped we wouldn't. If I were a physician, I'd let such
cases gently slip away for the good of society; but you should have seen
Sandy work! That terrible lifesaving instinct of his was aroused, and he
fought with every inch of energy he possessed.

I made black coffee, and helped all I could, but the details were pretty
messy, and I left the two men to deal with him alone and went back to
my room. But I didn't attempt to go to bed; I was afraid they might be
wanting me again. Toward fo