exhausted face, it was evident that the moisture upon it was beads of
perspiration, and not the rain which some abnormal heat of his body was
converting into vapor from his sodden garments as he stood there.

"I've got a document here," he began again, producing a roll of paper
tremblingly from his pocket, "that I'd like you to glance over, and
perhaps you'd"--His voice, which had been feverishly exalted, here broke
and rattled with a cough.

Billings, Wingate, and Peters fell apart and looked out of the window.
"It's too dark to read anything now, 'Lige," said Harkutt, with evasive
good humor, "and I ain't lightin' up to-night."

"But I can tell you the substance of it," said the man, with a faintness
that however had all the distinctness of a whisper, "if you'll just step
inside a minute. It's a matter of importance and a bargain"--

"I reckon we must be goin'," said Billings to the others, with marked
emphasis. "We're keepin' Harkutt from shuttin' up." "Good-night!"
"Good-night!" added Peters and Wingate, ostentatiously following
Billings hurriedly through the door. "So long!"

The door closed behind them, leaving Harkutt alone with his importunate
intruder. Possibly his resentment at his customers' selfish abandonment
of him at this moment developed a vague spirit of opposition to them and
mitigated his feeling towards 'Lige. He groped his way to the counter,
struck a match, and lit a candle. Its feeble rays faintly illuminated
the pale, drawn face of the applicant, set in a tangle of wet, unkempt,
party-colored hair. It was not the face of an ordinary drunkard;
although tremulous and sensitive from some artificial excitement, there
was no ENGORGEMENT or congestion in the features or complexion, albeit
they were morbid and unhealthy. The expression was of a suffering that
was as much mental as physical, and yet in some vague way appeared
unmeaning--and unheroic.

"I want to see you about selling my place on the creek. I want you to
take it off my hands for a bargain. I want to get quit of it, at once,
for just enough to take me out o' this. I don't want any profit; only
money enough to get away." His utterance, which had a certain kind of
cultivation, here grew thick and harsh again, and he looked eagerly at
the bottle which stood on the counter.

"Look here, 'Lige," said Harkutt, not unkindly. "It's too late to do
anythin' tonight. You come in to-morrow." He would have added "when
you're sober," but for a