not die--yet," said Newman. "He's just a little bit
surprised at the encounter. But he's glad to see me--aren't you,
Beasley? Stop that nonsense, and get up!" This last was barked at the
fellow; it was a soft-voiced but imperative command.

The command was instantly obeyed. That was Newman for you--people
didn't argue with him, they did what he said. I'd have obeyed too,
just as quickly, if he had spoken to me in that tone. There was
something in that man, something compelling, and, besides, he had the
habit of command in his manner.

So Beasley tottered to his feet, and stood there swaying. He found his
tongue, too, in sensible speech. "For God's sake, get me a drink!" he
said.

I was glad to seize the cue. It gave me an excuse to do something.

"I'll get some whisky downstairs," I sang out to Newman, as I moved for
the stairs. "Take him into my room; I'll be right back."

But when I returned with the liquor a few moments later, I discovered
that Newman had taken his prize into his own room. I heard the murmur
of voices through the closed door. But I had rather expected this.
Half seas over I might be, but I was still clear-witted enough to
realize that I had accidentally brought two old acquaintances together,
and that one was pleased at the meeting and the other terrified, and
that whatever was or had been between the two was none of my business.
I had no intention of intruding upon them. But the fellow, Beasley,
had looked so much in need of the stimulant that I ventured a knock
upon the door.

Newman opened, and I handed him the bottle without comment. I could
see my erstwhile tow sitting upon the bed, slumped in an attitude of
collapse. He looked so abject; his condition might have touched a
harder heart than mine. But there was no softening of Newman's heart,
to judge from his face; the little mirthless smile had vanished and his
features were hard and set. Aye, and his manner towards me was curt
enough.

"Thank you; he needs a pick-me-up," he said, as he took the bottle.
"And now--you'll excuse us, lad."

It wasn't a question, that last; it was a statement. Little he cared
if I excused him or not. He shut the door in my face, and I heard the
key turn in the lock.

Well, I suppose I should have been incensed by this off-hand dismissal.
Oh, I was no meek and humble specimen; my temper was only too touchy,
and besides there was my reputation as a hard case to look to. But
strangely