"Very right an' proper," yawned Pete. "Would it be trespassin' too much on yer kindness to ask for three glasses? It's time we downed some more medicine, an' I don't like to drink outer the bottle in this yere parlour."
Mrs. Greiffenhagen folded her hands. She had been heard to declare in public that if she were dying, and a thimbleful of whisky would restore her to health and Mr. Greiffenhagen, she would not swallow it.
The three men took more medicine. Presently Mamie supported Dan to the sofa; Edna was sitting on the floor with Jimmie's head on her lap. Mrs. Greiffenhagen glared at Pete, who from time to time kissed his hand to her. Not till she heard footsteps on the porch outside did the good lady rise from her chair. She opened the door to admit her husband. He reeled in.
"You too!" she said in a freezing voice.
Greiffenhagen explained. The boys were really poisoned, and whisky must be poured down their throats till stronger remedies arrived. The Professor, Ajax, and Uncle Jake were riding to San Lorenzo upon a wild-goose chase. He added that the boss was driving down with more whisky.
Within a few minutes I arrived with the whisky; and Mrs. Greiffenhagen was constrained to unbend. It was decided to put the men to bed, pending the arrival of the Professor. Two vaqueros were galloping after him in the hope of overtaking him before he had gone too far. Dan was undressed and placed in Miss Willing's muslin-curtained bed; Jimmie who would not permit his clothes to be removed, was laid upon the couch of Edna Parkinson. Pete was carried into the Greiffenhagen bedroom, and deposited, boots and all, upon a spotless white bedspread.
"Jiminy Christmas," said Greiffenhagen, "ain't it awful!"
At regular intervals the medicine was administered. Finally, what the Professor had desired came to pass. The three men lay senseless, breathing stertorously. To achieve this result more than a gallon of the best whisky had been used! Mamie and Edna began to exhibit symptoms of hysteria.
"I'll never leave my Dan--never!" declared Mamie, when it was suggested that she should return to the parlour.
"Jimmie, dear," sobbed Edna, "if you'll promise me not to die, I'll never speak to Mr. Greenberg again!"