“Is he a friend of yours?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Van Loan.
“Well, hadn’t you better let him go up-stairs and sleep this thing off?”
“No,” was the reply; “he wouldn’t get over it till morning, and his father and mother would be worried about him. No, I’ll take him home.”
“Then I’ll send for a close carriage for you.”
“No, you needn’t. He can walk well enough.”
“My gracious! Look here! you don’t want to show that young man up on the street like that, do you?”
Van Loan turned on the man savagely.
“It’s none of your business what I want to do!” he exclaimed. “Your part of the programme was ended when you got him drunk. Now you mind your affairs, and I’ll mind mine. Come, Charley, let’s go.”
He went to Lee, took his arm, and led him toward the door. The maudlin young fellow waved his free hand broadly to the group at the bar.