g I proposed to go away. Bob looked queerly at me, and said in a
whisper, "Don't you try it on! See that!" and he showed me a little
Derringer. I laughed; but I was not really amused. You always notice
that, when a man is about to go wrong, he thinks of killing those whom
he likes best. That night Bob's hands flew asunder with a jerk while we
were playing cards; the cards flew about; then he flung a decanter
violently into the fireplace, and sat down trembling and glaring. I
sprang to his side, and found that the sweat was running down his neck.
I pulled off his shoes--his socks were drenched! I said, "I thought
you'd get them, old fellow. Now, have some beef-tea, and I'll send right
away for a sleeping draught." Bob trembled still more.

"No beef-tea. I've had nothing these three days, as you know. It would
kill me to swallow." Then he said, in a horrible whisper, "The brute's
coming down the chimney again. There's a paw! Now his head! Now's a
chance! Yah! you pink devil, that's got you! Three days you've been
coming, and now you're cheeky. Yeo, ho! That's done him." Then he flung
a second decanter, and sank down once more with a shriek.

"I'll have a drink on that!" he screamed; and I let him take a full
glass of spirits, for I wanted to secure the Derringer. The drink
appeared to paralyse him, and I slipped down to the landlord's room. The
worthy man took things very coolly; none of his trade ever like to see a
man drunk, but they become hardened to it in time, and talk about
delirium tremens as if it were measles. Here is the dialogue.

"Bob's queer."

"I thought so. He's had 'em once before. He must be careful, but you
can't stop him."

"I must have help. I could drown myself when I think that I've perhaps
encouraged him."

"Don't you worry yourself. He'd have been a million times worse if you'd
not been about. He sits with the watchmen and all sorts of tow-rags
then."

"We must get him home somehow."

The landlord fairly shouted: "Home! anything but that! Not that I want
to keep him, but we must have him right first. There's his mother, what
could she do?" Then, dropping his voice, the shrewd fellow said, "You
see, it would nearly pay me to be without his custom, for I'm in the old
lady's hands. Fact is, they've engaged him to a swell girl, and she's
awful spoons on him, for there ain't nobody so nice and hearty as he is
when he's square. He's fond of her, too, but she wants to _reclaim_ him,
don't you k