tience with their carousal.

"The governor will be back here presently, Louis," said I.

"Tired of being a tombstone, ha--ha! Better be a champagne bottle!" he
laughed with slightly thickened articulation and increased unsteadiness
in his gait.

"If you don't hide that bottle in your hand, there'll be a big head and
a sore head for you men to-morrow morning." I rose to try and get them
out of the office; but a sober man with tied arms among a drunken crew
is at a disadvantage.

"Ha--old--wise--sh--head! To--be--sh--shure! Whur--d'--y'--hide--it?"

"Throw it out of the window," said I, without the slightest idea of
leading him into mischief.

"Whish--whish--ish--the window, Rufush?" asked Louis imploringly.

The last potion had done its work and Louis was passing from the jovial
to the pensive stage. He would presently reach a mood which might be
ugly enough for a companion in bonds. Was it this prospect, I wonder, or
the mischievous spirit pervading the very air from the time I reached
the ruins that suggested a way out of my dilemma?

"Throw it out of the window," said I, ignoring his question and shoving
him off.

"Whish--ish--the window--dammie?" he asked, holding the bottle
irresolutely and looking in befuddled distraction from side to side of
the room.

"Thur--both--windows--fur as I see," said the man, who had been sober,
but was no longer so.

"Throw it through the back window! Folks comin' in at the door won't see
it."

The red-faced man got up to investigate, and all faith in my plan died
within me; but the lantern light was dusky and the red-faced man could
no longer navigate a course from window to mirror.

"There's a winder there," said he, scratching his head and looking at
the window reflected in perfect proportion on the mirrored surface.

"And there's a winder there," he declared, pointing at the real window.
"They're both winders and they're both lookin'-glasses, for I see us all
in both of them. This place is haunted. Lem-me out!"

"Take thish, then," cried Louis, shoving the bottle towards him and
floundering across to the door to bar the way. "Take thish, or tell me
whish--ish--the window."

"Both winders, I tell you, and both lookin'-glasses," vowed the man. The
other four fellows declined to express an opinion for the very good
reason that two were asleep and two befuddled beyond questioning.

"See here, Louis," I exclaimed, "there's only one way to tell where to
throw that bo