"The old gent would kill me. He says I spend too much money. Well, maybe I do."
"You've bean drinking, Duncan."
"So I have, Roger. Take me to a hotel."
"Will you promise to go to bed and not to drink any more if I do?"
"Yes. I've had enough."
"Then brace up and come with me."
Not without a good deal of difficulty did I manage to make him walk several blocks to a good though not stylish hotel. Here I took him into the office and explained the situation to the clerk in charge, who promptly assigned us to a room on the third floor.
The charge was three dollars, which Duncan with some difficulty managed to pay; and then we took the elevator to the third floor.
The room was a good one, with a soft bed. No sooner did Duncan reach it than he sank down, and in five minutes he was fast asleep.
I was in a quandary as to what to do. I did not care to leave him in his present state, and at the same time I was anxious to find Mr. Harrison and visit Mrs. Agatha Mitts in Brooklyn.