“Oh, don’t trouble,” he said. “Of course, we’re in the country. I forgot. Bring me a whiskey-and-seltzer.”
“Yes, sir; and what will you have, sir?” I said, turning to the long gentleman.
The long gentleman, if he was a minute making up his mind he was ten. First he thought he’d have whiskey, and then he said whiskey made him bilious; then he thought he’d have a brandy-and-soda; and then he thought he’d have a plain lemonade.
“You couldn’t make my friend a basin of gruel, could you?” said the stout gentleman; “he’s very delicate.”
Of course I took him seriously, so I said, “Well, sir, the cook’s gone to bed; but——”
“Oh, don’t pay any attention to what he says,” says the tall gentleman; “he’s a lunatic. Bring me—let’s see—lemonade’s such cold stuff this weather—I think I’ll have a port-wine negus.”
I was very glad to get the order and get out of the room, for I thought they were going to keep me there half an hour.
When I got downstairs, I said to Harry, “I can’t make those two men out quite, and I’m not sure I like them.”
“Oh,” said Harry, “I dare say they’re all right. I’ll take their measure to-morrow.”
I took up the cigar, and the whiskey-and-seltzer, and the port-wine negus, and put them down, and was just saying good night when the tall gentleman called me back.