"Humph! I'd rather be weak in liquor than when sober," was muttered from the bunk.
Donelson turned quickly.
"See here, young man, if you want to quarrel with your best friend, all right! I've stood by you so far, and dragged you out of the deepest danger, but if you get too abusive—good-by! You may shift for yourself.
"Well then, shut up and let me think, can't you? I know you're all right, Jack, but my head aches terribly, and this muss nearly drives me mad. Why can't you be sympathetic and advise me, instead of harrowing me up so mercilessly."
The other laughed.
"Well, by gracious! I do feel for you, Tom. But what can I do about it?"
"Well, go and bring Carnegie here, for the first thing, can't you?"
"Bring Carnegie to you? I like that! Why, man alive, do you realize that under that bashful girl-look of his there is a spirit that wouldn't flinch at anything where honor is concerned? Watch his square jaw and the set of his lips. Bring him to you! You'll have to go to Carnegie, and eat some humble-pie into the bargain, Tom."
"I don't believe it."
"All right! Perhaps I lie. Just the same, I'll not do any such errand, even for you, that's certain. I know my man, if you don't. And, now, I'm going to the barber-shop, and you can have all the time there is to think it over."