Katherine gazed down at the insensate mass in utter hopelessness. Without him she could do nothing, and the precious minutes were flying. Through the night came a rumble of applause and fast upon it the music of another patriotic air.
In desperation she turned to the bartender.
“Can’t you help me rouse him?” she cried. “I’ve simply got to speak to him!”
That gentleman had often been appealed to by frantic women as against customers who had bought too liberally. But Katherine was a new variety in his experience. There was a great deal too much of him about the waist and also beneath the chin, but there was good-nature in his eyes, and he came from behind his counter and bore himself toward Katherine with a clumsy and ornate courtesy.
“Don’t see how you can, Miss. He’s been hittin’ an awful pace lately. You see for yourself how far gone he is.”
“But I must speak to him—I must! Surely there is some extreme measure that would bring him to his senses!”
“But, excuse me; you see, Miss, Mr. Harper is a reg’lar guest of the hotel, and I wouldn’t dare go to extremes. If I was to make him mad——”
“I’ll take all the blame!” she cried. “And afterward he’ll thank you for it!”
The bartender scratched his thin hair.