"Are you certain?" in a quick, eager tone.
"O yes. I saw him going along on the other side of the street with two or three fellows that didn't look no how at all like rum-bruisers."
"I was afraid he was dead," Mr. Graves responded to this, breathing more freely.
"Dead! Why should you think that?" inquired Sandy, still more (sic) mistified.
"I had reason for thinking so," was the evasive reply. A pause of some, moments ensued, when the bar-keeper said—
"I shall have to be stirring bright and early to-morrow morning."
"Why so?"
"We're out of sugar and lemons both. That Sub-Treasury runs on them 'ere articles strong."
"Confound the Sub-Treasury!" Mr. Graves ejaculated, with a strong and bitter emphasis. Sandy stood again mute with astonishment, staring into the tavern-keeper's face.
"Sandy," Mr. Graves at length said in a calm, resolute tone, "my mind is made up to quit selling liquor."