“Here, Boyle,” said Treat, holding a glass to his lips as Barney sat up, “a little more brandy and water.”
For a few moments after he drank the liquor Barney sat gazing stupidly about. Then, as full consciousness returned, cried out, “Where is he? He's not gone?” He seized the glass of brandy and water from Dr. Treat's hands and drank it off. “Get me another,” he said. “Is he gone?” he repeated, making an effort to rise.
“Never mind, Boyle, he's gone.”
“Wait till another day, Barney,” entreated Dick. “Never mind to-night.”
At this moment the sound of Dr. Bulling's voice, followed by loud laughter, came from the lavatory. At once Barney stood up, walked to the table, poured out a glass of brandy and drank it raw. For a minute he stood stretching his arms.
“Ah, that's better,” he said, and started toward the lavatory, but Dick clung to him.
“Barney, listen to me,” he entreated, his voice coming in broken sobs. “He'll kill you. Let me take your place.”
“Dick, keep out of it,” said Barney. “Don't worry. He'll hurt me no more, but he'll say it before I'm done.” And, throwing off the restraining hands, he made his way into the lavatory. Dr. Bulling was arranging his collar before a glass. As Barney entered he turned around.
“I'm sorry, Boyle,” he began, “but you brought it on yourself, you know.”
Barney walked straight up to him.