As the fellow slouched out, very much improved by his brief nap, the new-comer seized the man on the floor by the shoulder and shook him roughly.
“Wake up, here!” he shouted, in a shrill voice, in his ear.
Amos opened his eyes, and finally raised himself into a chair.
“What have you been saying this afternoon?” asked the other, sharply.
“Nothin’.”
“Did you tell that drunken brute, Hazelton, anything?”
“Not a thing, s’elp me!”
The man passed out of the stall and inspected the rooms on each side.
He found one stall empty, and in the other there was only a drunken countryman sleeping with his feet on the table and his chair tipped back against the wall.
“Now, then,” he said, sitting down again, “are you sober enough to understand what I say?”