"Yes, I've got some up in 232 1/2. If you'll come up I'll give you a dose."
"There's no rum in it, is there?"
"No."
Then they went up the elevator. They did not get down to breakfast, but at dinner they stole in. The man from Huerferno dodged nervously through the archway leading to the dining-room as though he had his doubts about getting through so small a space with his augmented head, and the man from Correjos looked like one who had wept his eyes almost blind over the woe that rum has wrought in our fair land.
When the waiter asked the delegate from Correjos for his desert order, the red-nosed Son of Ice Water said: "Bring me a cup of tea, some pudding without wine sauce, and a piece of mince pie. You may also bring me a Cork screw, if you please, to pull the brandy out of the mince pie with."
Then the two reformed drunkards looked at each other, and laughed a hoarse, bitter and joyous laugh.
At the afternoon session of the Sons of Ice Water, the Huerferno delegate couldn't get his regalia over his head.
