"No, I didn't notice that it was. But that's on Main street, you know, and Grig said Main street."
"Yes, perhaps. Had Benbow been drinking,--enough to affect him?"
Young Chapman looked somewhat embarrassed. "We don't--usually--"
"But you did on this occasion?"
"Well, it was a birthday, you see,--rather special. And we only had two bottles--"
"Among how many?"
"Twelve of us."
"Well, if Benbow didn't have more than his share, that ought not to have knocked him senseless." I rose. I hadn't learned anything that Eugene had not already told me. Chapman rose, also, but looked anxious and unsatisfied.
"We've been wondering, sir," he broke out desperately. "Will they--I mean, is it--will he--be hung?"
(Isn't that like youth? Jumping to the end of the story, and considering life done at the first halt in the race!)