His tone was more polite now. Henty left his work and went for the liquor. While he was away the manager and his wife took a hasty glance at their living quarters. She remained there with the terriers, but Penton soon came back for his remedy. When Evan went in he found three-fourths of the liquor gone, but the tooth was still aching. Mr. Penton was evidently in agony; he swore.
"Ask Mrs. Penton to come with me to a doctor's, will you?" he said.
Nelson rapped on a door at the end of the hall leading from the office into Penton's apartments. The dogs set up another hullabaloo. From his office the pained manager cursed them heartily. Henty was ready to bubble over with merriment, but the teller motioned him sober.
Mrs. Penton hesitated as she entered her husband's office. She could not have seen the flask, for it was not now in sight.
"Come with me to the doctor's, won't you?" he asked, with the suspicion of a whimper in his tone.
She looked behind her before answering. Evan was hovering near, to run errands or show them the way to a physician's.
"All right, Pen." She spoke timidly. Evan was sorry for her.
Penton was uneasy; he hesitated when Evan said: "If you don't mind, I'll be glad to go with you."
Mrs. Penton spoke out:
"It's awfully good of you, Mr. Nelson. Mr. Penton may have to take gas."