t.

* * * * *

Silk pajama clad, but still wearing portions of his day attire, he
awoke next day with a headache, and a tongue that felt like a
shredded-wheat biscuit. He held his head very level to keep the leaden
weight in the top of it from sliding around and bumping his skull, and
opened the swollen slits that did him painful duty for eyelids wide
enough to let him find the telephone, through which instrument he
ordered a silver-fizz. Of the butler who brought it he asked what time
it was.

"One o'clock, sir," replied the butler with the utmost gravity.

One o'clock! J. Rufus pondered the matter slowly.

"Morning or afternoon," he huskily asked.

"Afternoon, sir," and this time the butler permitted himself the
slightest trace of a smile as he noted the electric lights, still
blazing in sickly defiance of the bright sunshine which crept in
around the edges of the double blinds.

"Huh!" grunted J. Rufus, and pondered more.

Half dozing, he stood, glass in hand, for full five minutes, while the
butler, with a lively appreciation of tips past and to come, stood
patiently holding his little silver tray, with check and pencil
waiting for the signature. At the expiration of that time, however,
the butler coughed once, gently; once, normally; the third time very
loudly. These means failing, he dropped the tray clattering to the
floor, and with a cheerful "Beg your pardon, sir," picked it up. Not
knowing that he had been asleep again, Wallingford took a sip of the
refreshing drink and walked across to a garment which lay upon the
chair, feeling through the pockets one after the other. In one pocket
there was a little silver, but in the others nothing. He gave a coin
to the butler and signed the check in deep thoughtfulness, then sat
down heavily and dozed another fifteen minutes. Awakening, he found
the glass at his hand on the serving-bench, and drank about a fourth
of the contents very slowly.

"Spiked!" he groaned aloud.

He had good reason to believe that his wine had been "doctored," for
never before had anything he drank affected him like this. Another
glance at the garment of barren pockets reminded him to look about for
the coat and vest he had worn the night before. They were not visible
in his bedroom, and, still carrying the glass of life-saving mixture
with him, he made his way into his sitting-room and surveyed the
wreck. On the table was a confusion of cards and chips