The young man crossed unsteadily to Larry and took a fighting pose.
“Put 'em up!” he ordered.
This was certainly a night of strange adventure, thought Larry. His wild escape—his coming to this unknown place—and now this befuddled young fellow intent upon battle with him.
“Let's fight to-morrow,” Larry suggested soothingly.
“Put 'em up!” ordered the other. “If you don't know what you're doin' here, I'll show you what you're doin' here!”
But he was not to show Larry, for while he was uttering his last words, trying to steady himself in a crouch for the delivery of a blow, a voice sounded sharply from the doorway—a woman's voice:
“Dick!”
The young man slowly turned. But Larry had seen her first. He had no chance to take her in, that first moment, beyond noting that she was slender and young and exquisitely gowned, for she swept straight across to them.
“Dick, you're drunk again!” she exclaimed.
“Wrong, sis,” he corrected in an injured tone. “It's same drunk.”