one. He was awful glad to see me and I said
how well he looked, and he did look well, sort of cordial and
bulging--his forehead bulges and his eyes bulge and his moustache and
his chin, and he has cushions on his face. He beamed on me in a wide and
hearty manner and explained that Alonzo refused to come out to meet a
lady until he knew who she was, because you got to be careful in a small
town like this where every one talks. 'And besides,' says Ben, 'he's
just broke down and begun to cry about his appendicitis that was three
years ago. He's leaning his head on his arms down by the end of the bar
and sobbing bitterly over it. He seems to grieve about it as a personal
loss. I've tried to cheer him up and told him it was probably all for
the best, but he says when it comes over him this way he simply can't
stand it. And what shall I do?'

"Well, of course I seen the worst had happened with Alonzo. So I says to
Ben: 'You know there's a party to-night and if that man ain't seen to he
will certainly sink the ship. Now you get him out of that swamp and I'll
think of something.' 'I'll do it,' says Ben, turning sideways so he
could go through the doorway again. 'I'll do it,' he says, 'if I have to
use force on the little scoundrel.'

"And sure enough, in a minute he edged out again with Alonzo firmly
fastened to him in some way. Lon hadn't wanted to come and didn't want
to stay now, but he simply couldn't move. Say, that Ben Sutton would
make an awful grand anchor for a captive balloon. Alonzo wiped his eyes
until he could see who I was. Then I rebuked him, reminding him of his
sacred duties as a prominent citizen, a husband, and the secretary of
the Red Gap Chamber of Commerce. 'Of course it's all right to take a
drink now and then,' I says.

"Alonzo brightened at this. 'Good!' says he; 'now it's now and pretty
soon it will be then. Let's go into a saloon or something like that!'

"'You'll come with me,' I says firmly. And I marched 'em down to the
United States Grill, where I ordered tea and toast for 'em. Ben was
sensible enough, but Alonzo was horrified at the thought of tea. 'It's
tea or nice cold water for yours,' I says, and that set him off again.
'Water!' he sobs. 'Water! Water! Maybe you don't know that some dear
cousins of mine have just lost their all in the Dayton flood--twenty
years' gathering went in a minute, just like that!' and he tried to snap
his fingers. All the same I got some hot tea into him and sent