We had supper. Jack didn’t say anything all during the meal except, “Will you pass me this?” or “Will you pass me that?” The two health-farm patients ate at the same table with us. They were pretty nice fellows. After we finished eating we went out on the porch. It was dark early. “Like to take a walk, Jerry?” Jack asked. “Sure,” I said. We put on our coats and started out. It was quite a way down to the main road and then we walked along the main road about a mile and a half. Cars kept going by and we would pull out to the side until they were past. Jack didn’t say anything. After we had stepped out into the bushes to let a big car go by Jack said, “To hell with this walking. Come on back to Hogan’s.” We went along a side road that cut up over the hill and cut across the fields back to Hogan’s. We could see the lights of the house up on the hill. We came around to the front of the house and there standing in the doorway was Hogan. “Have a good walk?” Hogan asked. “Oh, fine,” Jack said. “Listen, Hogan. Have you got any liquor?” “Sure,” says Hogan. “What’s the idea?” “Send it up to the room,” Jack says. “I’m going to sleep to-night.” “You’re the doctor,” Hogan says. “Come on up to the room, Jerry,” Jack says. Upstairs Jack sat on the bed with his head in his hands. “Ain’t it a life?” Jack says. Hogan brought in a quart of liquor and two glasses. “Want some ginger-ale?” “What do you think I want to do, get sick?” “I just asked you,” said Hogan. “Have a drink?” said Jack. “No, thanks,” said Hogan. He went out. “How about you, Jerry?” “I’ll have one with you,” I said. Jack poured out a couple of drinks. “Now,” he said, “I want to take it slow and easy.” “Put some water in it,” I said. “Yes,” Jack said. “I guess that’s better.” We had a couple of drinks without saying anything. Jack started to pour me another. “No,” I said, “that’s all I want.” “All right,” Jack said. He poured himself out another big shot and put water in it. He was lighting up a little. “That was a fine bunch out here this afternoon,” he said. “They don’t take any chances, those two.” Then a little later, “Well,” he says, “they’re right. What the hell’s the good in taking chances?” “Don’t you want another, Jerry?” he said. “Come on, drink along with me.” “I don’t need it, Jack,” I said. “I feel all right.” “Just have one more,” Jack said. It was softening him up. “All right,” I said. Jack poured one for me and another big one for himself. “You know,” he said, “I like liquor pretty well. If I hadn’t been boxing I would have drunk quite a lot.” “Sure,” I said. “You know,” he said, “I missed a lot, boxing.” “You made plenty of money.” “Sure, that’s what I’m after. You know I miss a lot, Jerry.” “How do you mean?” “Well,” he says, “like about the wife. And being away from home so much. It don’t do my girls any good. ‘Whose your old man?’ some of those society kids’ll say to them. ‘My old man’s Jack Brennan.’ That don’t do them any good.”