"That will be unnecessary. I have had a rather severe attack of malaria ... that is all ... left me rather weak ... but now I'm getting over it ... had to take a lot of whiskey and quinine, though, to break it up!
"Malaria comes on me, every spring, you know ... harder than usual, this spring, though ... it's made me dotty ... made me say things, at times, I'm afraid!"
We sat silent.
"—need any money?" he was reaching into his pocket.
"No, I don't want a cent!"
"Then take this five dollar bill and go around to the corner saloon and buy me a pint ... what I had is all used up, and the chills are not quite out of me yet."
On the way to the saloon I stopped at Hartman's express office ... related the foregoing story....
"H'm! yes!... I see!" ... Hartman braced his thumbs together meditatively, "—from what you say it's pretty serious ... something will have to be done this very day....
"Yes, go and get the pint ... let him have a drink of it. And—and keep close to him all the time ... don't," he added significantly, "leave the lady in question in the room alone with him for a single moment."