For a Moment they were stunned by the Impact and then every Son of Peoria leaned back and let out a Yowl. To think that a real up-to-date Fellow would pull any of that Old Stuff! A puny Mortal trying to get a Toe-Hold on the Demon! They told him to forget it and quit his Spoofing and remove his Overshoes and ease a couple of Gills into his Reservoir and try to be a Human Being, however painful the Effort. He came back with a few Gems from the Family Medicine Book about the Effect of the Accursed Stuff on various Organs. He did not propose to feed himself anything that would cut the Varnish off of Wood-Work. The Hard Stuff had passed out of his Life. The Cackles died away and were succeeded by looks of Blank Dismay. They saw that one whom they had long regarded as a reliable bench- working Union Lush had turned in his Card and deliberately made himself an Outcast. They saw him order Vichy and go to it as if it were a Beverage, and then they tore up his Credentials and burned his Photograph and told him to go out to a 3-days Cure and take a Hypodermic of Hot Mush. He sat back and pulled the Grim Smile which Savanarola wore when they piled the Fagots around him. He was a Martyr and proud of his Job. By the same Token there is no Brand of Rectitude that grades so pure and spotless as that exhibited by the disinfected Dove who has not touched a Drop for nearly 24 hours. They saw him go home with a Magazine under his Arm, and then they sat around until all Hours, lapping it up and progging his Finish. They said he never would last a Week, and when the Fell it would be Some Splash. They began to issue daily Bulletins and watched the Case with much Anxiety because they really liked the Old Scout in spite of his Eccentricities. When they learned, at the End of a Week, that he had played Buttermilk to a Standstill all up and down the Quick Lunch Circuit and was at his Desk every Morning with his Face clean and a Flower in his Coat, they called a Meeting of the Vigilantes and decided that the Joke had been carried far enough. In the meantime, Our Hero had learned two new kinds of Solitaire and began to call around for a Dish of Tea with some distant Female Relatives who had long supposed him Dead. Along about the Cocktail Hour he would find himself sitting first in one Chair and then in another, but he Cashed big every Morning when he awoke and found that Henry Katzenjammer was not sitting on the Foot-Board making Faces at him. Only, sometimes he would stop on a Corner and look all about him and up at the Buildings and wonder if the Town had always been as Quiet as at Present. After he had stuck for a Fortnight, the desperate Envoys from the Indian Camp went after him for Keeps. They held it in front of him and splashed it on his Clothes and begged him to step aboard with them and go right up to the 18th Floor.