“Take some of the melted tallow on the top of your candle, and grease the key-hole as well as you can, and then I will come in and talk to you, if you will let me.”
“Thanks; yes.”
And Mr. Berners did as he was requested to do, and Munson slipped his key into the lubricated key-hole, and silently unlocked the door.
“Oh, our deliverer!” fervently exclaimed Sybil, as he softly entered the room and closed the door behind him, holding up his finger in warning to them to be silent.
“And now sit close for a few minutes, while I tell you what I have done and am going to do,” said Munson, drawing a stool and sitting himself upon it, before Mr. and Mrs. Berners.
“Go on,” muttered Lyon, fervently pressing the hand of his friend.
“Oh, yes, go on, dear Bob!” eagerly whispered Sybil.
“First I put nearly half an ounce of laudanum in old Purley’s bitter beer, which made him think it so uncommon prime and bitter, that he drank the whole quart.”
“Good heaven! Munson, you have killed the man!” said Lyon, in dismay.
“No, I have only doubled the dose I gave him before, which took no effect on him, so this will only put him to sleep for twelve hours or so. Lord, listen how he snores! A thunderstorm wouldn’t wake him.”