Though John Trafton was a good deal under the influence of liquor, he was not wholly deaf to reason and he saw the force of his wife’s remark. In fact, he had himself found sorry trouble in getting home from the tavern, familiar as the path was to him, on account of the intense darkness. “Well, I guess it’ll do to-morrow morning,” he said. “I must have it then, for I’ve promised to pay Jones a dollar on account. I said I would, and I’ve got to keep my promise. Do you hear that, you young rascal?” “Yes, I hear it.” “Then mind you don’t forget it. That’s all I’ve got to say.” And the fisherman staggered into the adjoining room, and, without taking the trouble of removing his garments, threw himself on the bed and in five minutes was breathing loud in a drunken stupor. Mrs. Trafton did not immediately go to bed. She was troubled in mind, for she foresaw that there was only a truce and not a cessation of hostilities. In the morning her husband would renew his demand upon Robert, and, should the latter continue to refuse to comply, she was afraid there would be violence. When her husband’s heavy breathing showed that he was insensible to anything that was said, she began. “I don’t know but you’d better give up that money to your uncle,” she said. “How can you advise me to do that, aunt?” asked Robert in surprise. “Because I’m afraid you’ll make him angry if you refuse.” “I can’t help it if he is angry,” answered Robert. “He has no right to be. Don’t you know what he said--that he wanted to pay a dollar to the tavern keeper?” “Yes.” “Mr. Jones shall never get a cent of that money,” said Robert firmly. “But, Robert,” said his aunt nervously, “your uncle may beat you.” “Then I’ll keep my distance from him.” “I would rather he would have the money than that you should get hurt, Robert.” “Aunt Jane, I am going to take the risk of that. Though he is my uncle and your husband, there’s one thing I can’t help saying: It is a contemptibly mean thing not only to use all his own earnings for drink, but to try to get hold of what little I get for the same purpose.” “I don’t deny it, Robert. I don’t pretend to defend my husband. Once he was different, but drink has changed his whole nature. I never had any reason to complain before he took to drink.” “No doubt of it, aunt, but that don’t alter present circumstances. I have no respect for my uncle when he acts as he has to-night. Come what may, there’s one thing I am determined upon--he shan’t have the money.” “You’ll be prudent, Robert, for my sake?” entreated Mrs. Trafton. “Yes, I’ll be prudent. To-morrow morning I will get up early and be out of the way till after uncle is gone. There is no chance of his getting up early and going a-fishing.” The deep and noisy breathing made it probable that the fisherman would awaken at a late hour, as both Robert and his aunt knew.