“Drink with me, sir,” he said, turning to the overjoyed Briggs.
“Thank you, colonel. You’re a gentleman!”
“Two glasses, Tim.”
So the colonel drained a second glass, and Briggs, pouring out with trembling fingers as much as he dared, followed suit.
When the last drop was drunk, he breathed a deep sigh of measureless enjoyment.
“If either of you bring that boy in here,” said Tim, “I’ll stand a couple of glasses for both.”
“We’re your men, Tim,” said Hooker. “Ain’t we, Briggs?”
“That’s so, Hooker. Shake!”
And the poor victims of drink shook hands energetically. Long since they had sunk their manhood in the intoxicating cup, and henceforth lived only to gratify their unnatural craving for what would sooner or later bring them to a drunkard’s grave.
As they left the saloon, the colonel turned to Tim, and said: