Hank is a turrible tall feller, and thin as a ramrod. He's got hair you could flag a train with, and a face as speckled as a turkey aig. And when I come on to him that day, here he was, stretched out on the floor of Dutchy's back room, mouth wide open, and snorin' like a rip-saw. I give his shoulder a jerk. "Here, Hank," I says, "wake up and pay fer you' keep. What's got into you, anyhow. My goodness me!" He opened his eyes--slow. Next, he sit up, and fixed a' awful ugly look on me. "Wa-a-al?" he says. "My friend," I begun, "Briggs City likes you, and in the present case it's a-tryin' t' make 'lowances, and not chalk nothin' agin y', but----" "Blankety blank Briggs City!" growls Hank. "Ish had me shober and ish had me drunk, and neither way don't shoot." "Now, ole man, I reckon you're wrong," I says. "But never mind, anyhow. Just try t' realise that they 's a 'lection comin', and that you got t' help." "Walkersh a friend of mine," says Hank, and laid down again. Wal, I didn't want t' be there all day. I wanted t' have _some_ time to myself, y' savvy, so 's I could keep track of Mace. So I grabbed him again. This whack, he got up, straddlin' his feet out like a mad tarantula, and kinda clawin' the air. They wasn't no gun visible on him, but he was loaded, all right. Had a revolver stuck under his belt in front, so 's the bottom of his vest hid it. I jerked it out and kicked it clean acrosst the floor. Then I drug him out and started fer the bunk-house with him. _Gosh!_ it was a job! Wal, the pore cuss didn't git another swalla of forty-rod that day; and by the next mornin' he was calm and had a' appetite. So three of us sergeant-at-arms happened over to see him. Bill Rawson was there a'ready, keepin' him comp'ny. And first thing y' know, I was handin' that editor of ourn great big slathers of straight talk. "_I_ know what you done fer me, Cupid," says Hank. "And I'm grateful,--yas, I am. But let me tell you that when I git started drinkin', I cain't _stop_--never do till I'm just wored out 'r stone broke. And I git mean, and on the fight, and don't know what I'm doin'. But," he _con_-tinues (his face was as long as you' arm), "if you-all 'll fergive me, and let this spree pass, why, I'll go back t' takin' water at the railroad tank with the Sante Fee ingines." "Hank," I says, "you needn't t' say nothin' further. But pack no more loads, m' son, pack no more loads. And _try_ t' git out another _EyeOpener_. Not only is this sheriff matter pressin', but the lit'rary standin' of Briggs City is at stake." "That's dead right," he says. "And I'll git up a' issue of the _Opener_ pronto--only you boys 'll have t' help me out some on the news part. I don't recollect much that's been happenin' lately." Wal, things looked cheerfuller. So, 'fore long, I was back at the deepot, settin' on a truck and watchin' the eatin'-house windas, and the boys--Bergin and all--was lined up 'longside Dutchy's bar, celebratin'.