"Stuff and nonsense!" I replied tartly. "You put that—that weapon into your pocket this minute! Don't you know you are apt to cause us both to be arrested if a police officer should come this way?"
Mechanically he obeyed, slipping the dreadful thing into his coat pocket, and continuing to stare at me in that helpless, dazed fashion.
"Now come and sit down beside me on this bench!" I commanded, gathering my worsteds out of his way. He obeyed like a person in a trance. "There now!" said I. "You poor man, you are all upset! Wait a minute and I'll give you just what you need."
Fortunately it is my habit always to carry a dose of aromatic spirits of ammonia in my reticule in case of emergency, and at length an emergency had arisen. Hastily retrieving the little phial from its hiding place I uncorked it and offered it to my strange companion.
"Here—drink this quickly!" I commanded.
He took it and gave a hurried look about to see if anyone observed. There was nobody in sight.
"You are right, it is less noisy!" he whispered. And with a single gulp he drained the phial and returned it to me.
"How long does it take to work?" he whispered feebly, relaxing upon the bench.
"Just a moment," I said soothingly. "There! Don't you feel better already?"
"I do, strangely enough!" he replied, straightening up. "What kind of poison is it?"