“Gardy—you—you——”
He collapsed slowly upon the pillow and was sound asleep.
Dr. Olson set his glass down and wiped his forehead.
“That’s good,” he said. “But he’s going to be a very sick man.”
“Of course,” I said. “But now that you have got him asleep we are going to stop his drinking and get him straightened up.”
The doctor looked at Chanler’s puffed face.
“What’s the use?” he said with a shrug of his thin shoulders. “Besides, he doesn’t want to do anything of the sort.”
“What he wants doesn’t matter,” I insisted. “He’s got to be straightened up. What can you do for him?”
The little man looked at me with a weary smile.
“Why this eagerness, Pitt? If I put Chanler on his feet——”