per," yawned Pete. "Would it be trespassin' too
much on yer kindness to ask for three glasses? It's time we downed
some more medicine, an' I don't like to drink outer the bottle in this
yere parlour."

Mrs. Greiffenhagen folded her hands. She had been heard to declare in
public that if she were dying, and a thimbleful of whisky would
restore her to health and Mr. Greiffenhagen, she would not swallow it.

The three men took more medicine. Presently Mamie supported Dan to the
sofa; Edna was sitting on the floor with Jimmie's head on her lap.
Mrs. Greiffenhagen glared at Pete, who from time to time kissed his
hand to her. Not till she heard footsteps on the porch outside did the
good lady rise from her chair. She opened the door to admit her
husband. He reeled in.

"You too!" she said in a freezing voice.

Greiffenhagen explained. The boys were really poisoned, and whisky
must be poured down their throats till stronger remedies arrived. The
Professor, Ajax, and Uncle Jake were riding to San Lorenzo upon a
wild-goose chase. He added that the boss was driving down with more
whisky.

Within a few minutes I arrived with the whisky; and Mrs. Greiffenhagen
was constrained to unbend. It was decided to put the men to bed,
pending the arrival of the Professor. Two vaqueros were galloping
after him in the hope of overtaking him before he had gone too far.
Dan was undressed and placed in Miss Willing's muslin-curtained bed;
Jimmie who would not permit his clothes to be removed, was laid upon
the couch of Edna Parkinson. Pete was carried into the Greiffenhagen
bedroom, and deposited, boots and all, upon a spotless white
bedspread.

"Jiminy Christmas," said Greiffenhagen, "ain't it awful!"

At regular intervals the medicine was administered. Finally, what the
Professor had desired came to pass. The three men lay senseless,
breathing stertorously. To achieve this result more than a gallon of
the best whisky had been used! Mamie and Edna began to exhibit
symptoms of hysteria.

"I'll never leave my Dan--never!" declared Mamie, when it was
suggested that she should return to the parlour.

"Jimmie, dear," sobbed Edna, "if you'll promise me not to die, I'll
never speak to Mr. Greenberg again!"

* * * * *

At about six the next morning Pete Holloway woke up. He opened his
eyes, groaned deeply, and closed them again.

"How are you feeling, Pete?" said I.

Pete groaned again, for memory of all that had