“Oz happened to drop in. He found me on the lab floor; just about gone for good. He lugged me out of doors and worked over me for a couple of hours before he got me on my feet. The whole house,--the whole of Rackrent Farm, it seems to me,--smells of the rotten chemical stuff. I got out, this morning, before it could keel me over again. The smell will hang around there for days, I suppose. It--” “Why in blazes should a grown man waste time puttering around with silly messes of chemicals?” orated Chase, to the world at large. “At best, he can only discover a new combination of smelly drugs. And at worst, he can be croaked by them. Not that research isn’t a grand thing, in its way,” he added. “I used to do a bit of it, myself. For instance, last month, I discovered one miraculously fine combination, I remember: A hooker of any of the Seven Deadly Gins, and one-- No, that’s wrong! Two parts Jersey applejack to one part French--” He broke off in his bibulous reminiscences, finding he was not listened to. Thaxton solicitously had helped Clive to a chair and was pouring him a cup of black coffee. The visitor appeared to be on the verge of serious collapse. “Did Doc Lawton think it was all right for you to leave the house while you’re so done up?” asked Vail. “I didn’t send for him. Oz pulled me through,” returned Clive, dully. “Then I piked over here. I couldn’t stay there, in that horribly smelly place, could I?” He shuddered, in reminiscence, and gulped his coffee. “It’ll be days before the place is fit to live in again,” he said. “The gases have permeated--” “I’d swap the magenta room for it, any time,” put in Chase, unheeded. Clive continued: “Oz brought me as far as your door, in his runabout. He had an idea he wouldn’t be over-welcome here, so he went on. He wanted me to stay at Canobie, with him, till I can go back home. But-- Well, when I’m as knocked out as this, I don’t want to. Oz is all right. He’s a dandy brother, and a white pal. But he has no way with the sick. He--” “I know,” said Thaxton, as Clive halted, embarrassed. “I know.” “You see,” added Clive, “I don’t want you to think I’m a baby, to go to pieces like this. But the fumes seem to have caught me where I was gassed, at Montfaucon. Started up all the old pain and gasping and faintness, and heart bother and splitting headache again. I’ve heard it comes back, like that. The surgeon told me it might. And now I know it does. It’s put me pretty well onto the discard. But a few days quiet will set me on my feet.” “So you rolled over here, first crack out of the box?” suggested Willis Chase. “By way of keeping perfectly quiet?”