et a fair shot at it. They
were about to let fly when the creature fell over on its side and
moaned as if in pain. Observing this, the four men advanced cautiously
towards it. Bundy struck a match and held it over the prostrate
figure. It was the Semi-drunk.

After parting from Philpot, the poor wretch had managed to walk all
right for some distance. As Philpot had remarked, the fall had to some
extent sobered him; but he had not gone very far before the drink he
had taken began to affect him again and he had fallen down. Finding it
impossible to get up, he began crawling along on his hands and knees,
unconscious of the fact that he was travelling in the wrong direction.
Even this mode of progression failed him at last, and he would probably
have been run over if they had not found him. They raised him up, and
Philpot, exhorting him to 'pull himself together' inquired where he
lived. The man had sense enough left to be able to tell them his
address, which was fortunately at Windley, where they all resided.

Bundy and Philpot took him home, separating from Crass and Easton at
the corner of the street where both the latter lived.

Crass felt very full and satisfied with himself. He had had six and a
half pints of beer, and had listened to two selections on the polyphone
at a total cost of one penny.

Easton had but a few yards to go before reaching his own house after
parting from Crass, but he paused directly he heard the latter's door
close, and leaning against a street lamp yielded to the feeling of
giddiness and nausea that he had been fighting against all the way
home. All the inanimate objects around him seemed to be in motion. The
lights of the distant street lamps appeared to be floating about the
pavement and the roadway rose and fell like the surface of a troubled
sea. He searched his pockets for his handkerchief and having found it
wiped his mouth, inwardly congratulating himself that Crass was not
there to see him. Resuming his walk, after a few minutes he reached
his own home. As he passed through, the gate closed of itself after
him, clanging loudly. He went rather unsteadily up the narrow path
that led to his front door and entered.

The baby was asleep in the cradle. Slyme had gone up to his own room,
and Ruth was sitting sewing by the fireside. The table was still set
for two persons, for she had not yet taken her tea.

Easton lurched in noisily. ''Ello, old girl!' he cried, throwing