dn't have taken it on an empty stomach," he muttered to himself
as he dragged his heavy limbs out of the door.

When he came fairly to his senses again he was lying in his little room
and the slatternly chambermaid was looking in at him.

"You aind seek alretty?" she asked.

"Go away," he said with a scowl; "you've bothered me too much."

"You peen trinken--aind it. Chim help you up de stairs last nide."

"What time is it?" he asked, with an effort to recall where he had been.

"Tweluf o'clock," she replied, still looking at him keenly, genuinely
concerned about him.

"Go away. I must get up." As she went toward the door he sat up for a
moment, but a terrible throbbing pain just back of his eyes threw him
back upon his pillow as if he had met the blow of a fist. "Oh, I'm used
up--I can't do it," he groaned, pressing his palms to his temples. "I'm
burning up with fever."

The girl came back. "Dat's vat I tought. You dond look ride. Your mudder
vouldn't known you since you gome here. Pedder you send for your folks
alretty."

"Oh, go out--let me alone. Yes, I'll do it. I'll get up soon."

When the girl returned with the proprietor of the hotel Harold was far
past rational speech. He was pounding furiously on the door, shouting,
"Let me out!" When they tried to open the door they found it locked. The
proprietor, a burly German, set his weight against it and tore the lock
off.

Harold was dangerously quiet as he said: "You'd better let me out o'
here. Them greasers are stampeding the cattle. It's a little trick of
theirs."

"Dot's all right; you go back to bed; I'll look out for dot greaser
pisness," said the landlord, who thought him drunk.

"You let me out or I'll break you in two," the determined man replied,
and a tremendous struggle took place.

Ultimately Harold was vanquished, and Schmidt, piling his huge bulk on
the worn-out body of the young man, held him until his notion changed.

"Did you ever have a tree burn up in your head?" he asked.

"Pring a policeman," whispered Schmidt to the girl, "and a doctor. De
man is grazy mit fevers; he aindt trunk."

When the officer came in Harold looked at him with sternly steady eyes.
"See here, cap, don't you try any funny business with me. I won't stand
it; I'll shoot with you for dollars or doughnuts."

"What's the matter--jim-jams?" asked the officer indifferently.

"No," replied Schmidt, "I tondt pelief it--he's got some fever onto
him."

The police