No one answered.
"But, Himmel! he cannot stay here." The voice was the bartender's, but it seemed to be addressed to no one in particular.
"I have known him for years," I said. "Take him to my rooms; they are only a dozen blocks away."
A carriage was sent for, and away we drove, the doctor and I, slowly, cautiously, holding the still unconscious man between us. We laid him on my bed, and the doctor departed, promising to return before morning.
A little after midnight Dannevig became restless, and as I went to his side, opened his eyes with a look of full, startled consciousness.
"I'm about played out, old fellow, aint I?" he groaned.
I motioned to him to be silent.
"No," he went on, in a strained whisper, "it is no use now. I know well enough how I stand. You needn't try to fool me."
He lay for a while motionless, while his eyes wandered restlessly about the room. He made an effort to speak, but his words were inaudible. I stooped over him, laying my ear to his mouth.
"Can—can you lend me five dollars?"