"Mighty queer that he should have had the thing!—if he isn't guilty."
"And yet I am as sure as that I am alive this moment, that if they hang Dorn Hackett for that murder, they will hang an innocent man for the crime of another."
"Come, let's go and take a drink, just one. Take something light if you like. And then we'll go around and see some life. Come on. I want a drink."
"No, you'll have to excuse me, Silas. I never drink, and I feel pretty tired; and, I think I'll go to bed."
"Go to bed! now! Why, a man isn't a hen. Night is the only time to see life in New York. I've only been up a couple of hours or so. Come along, and I'll show you the elephant."
"No, thank you. I have no desire to see him. I'd rather go to bed. Good-night."
"Well, good-night,—if you will go."
Silas, when left alone, hastily entered the bar-room attached to the theatre, and called for a glass of brandy. While he was pouring out the fiery beverage, an acquaintance entered, and, looking at him with surprise, exclaimed:—
"Why, Sile! What the deuce is the matter with you? You look as if you'd seen a ghost!"
"Maybe I have. What'll you take?" answered Silas, dryly.