half full of water, brought it
back to him.

"Here it is."

"I don't like the colour of it."

"Why, it has a nice, rich colour."

"What is it?--Scotch?"

"Yes."

He sipped of it. Made a rueful face. "I don't like the taste of it ...
it tastes too much like water," he commented, with a quiet, grave,
matter-of-fact grimace that set me laughing, in spite of myself....

"Drink it down! I swear it's all right."

He tossed off the water.

"Give me my pants. I want to get out of here."

"Why, wasn't that whiskey that I just gave you?"

"Yes, yes ... but not very good stuff. I know where I can get better."

Humouring him, I helped him into his trousers ... painfully he put on
his shirt, neatly tied his tie, while I steadied him. This manual
function seemed to better his condition straightway. He startled me by
turning to me with a look of amused recognition in his eyes. He was no
longer off his head, just a very sick man.

"Well, Johnnie, so you're back again?"

"Yes, Pop--back again!"

"What are you going to do next?" he queried wearily, seating himself
laboriously in an armchair.

"Stay, and take care of you!"

"That will be unnecessary. I have had a rather severe attack of malaria
... that is all ... left me rather weak ... but now I'm getting over it
... had to take a lot of whiskey and quinine, though, to break it up!

"Malaria comes on me, every spring, you know ... harder than usual, this
spring, though ... it's made me dotty ... made me say things, at times,
I'm afraid!"

We sat silent.

"--need any money?" he was reaching into his pocket.

"No, I don't want a cent!"

"Then take this five dollar bill and go around to the corner saloon and
buy me a pint ... what I had is all used up, and the chills are not
quite out of me yet."

* * * * *

On the way to the saloon I stopped at Hartman's express office ...
related the foregoing story....

"H'm! yes!... I see!" ... Hartman braced his thumbs together
meditatively, "--from what you say it's pretty serious ... something
will have to be done this very day....

"Yes, go and get the pint ... let him have a drink of it. And--and keep
close to him all the time ... don't," he added significantly, "leave the
lady in question in the room alone with him for a single moment."

* * * * *

"Have you got the pint, Son?"

"Yes, Father. Here it is ... but just a little!"

"I know what I'm