shortcomings.

"Aw, dry up! Take another and forget it," replied his unsympathetic
confidante crossly.

Mr. Terriberry looked up in quick cheerfulness.

"Le's do, Doc. Do you know I hate water--just plain water. If it'll rot
your boots what'll it do to your stummick!"

A man breathless from haste appeared in the doorway of the anteroom.

"Dr. Harpe----"

"What is it?" She did not turn around.

"A case came in at the hospital--feller shot, down the street."

"Where's Lamb?" she demanded irritably.

"Out of town."

"Thunder!" She stamped her foot impatiently. "Who is it?" she scowled.

"Billy Duncan. He's bleedin' bad, Doc." There was a note of entreaty in
his voice.

"All right," she answered shortly, "I'll be down."

"Frien' of yours?" inquired Terriberry.

"Friend? No. One of those damned hoboes on the Ditch. Looks like he
might have taken some other night than this."

"Don't blame you 'tall, Doc. I gotta get to work and fin' Merta. If you
see Merta----" Mr. Terriberry suddenly realized that he was talking to
himself.

As Dr. Harpe made her way to the cloak-room she was conscious that it
was well she was leaving. The lights were blurring rapidly, the dancers
in the ballroom were unrecognizable and indistinct, she was sensible,
too, of the increasing thickness of her tongue. Yet more than ever she
wanted to laugh hysterically, to scream, to boast before them all of the
things she had done and of those she meant to do. Yes, decidedly, it was
time she was leaving, her saner self told her.

She fumbled among the wraps in the cloak-room until she found her own,
then, steadying herself by running her fingertips along the wall, she
slipped from the hotel without being observed.

"Made a good getaway that time," she muttered.

Her lips felt stiff and dry and she moistened them frequently as she
stumbled across the hummocks of sagebrush growing on the vacant lots
between the hospital and the hotel. She fell, and cursed aloud as she
felt the sting of cacti spines in her palm. She sat where she fell and
tried to extract them by the light of the moon. Then she arose and
stumbled on.

"God! I'm drunk--jus' plain drunk," she said thickly, and was glad that
there would be no one but Nell Beecroft about.

Nell was safe. She had long since attended to that. They shared too many
secrets in common for Nell to squeal. Nell was not easily shocked. She
laughed foolishly at the thought of Nell being shocked and w