"I will never take it, father."
"Say, 'So help me God!'"
"So help me God!"
A look of relief came to the father's haggard face. He poured out a little more of the spirit, drank it hastily, then pushing bottle and glass from him, he said—
"Now put that away, Gus, and bring me your lessons."
"Have you no work to do, father?" asked the boy, with brightening face.
"Not at present. I am to call for it at six o'clock, so I have plenty of time to hear you."
[CHAPTER III.]
GUS MAKES A PROMISE.
THE life of Augustus Devereux Carruthers grew no easier as the days went on. Surely no child of gentle birth had ever so rough a bringing up, or so early made acquaintance with the darker phases of life. His father had sunk lower and lower, benumbing his faculties by strong drink, till even the drudgery of copying for law-stationers was well-nigh beyond his weakened capacity.