"Certainly." Duncan, by now habituated to the formulae of soda dispensing, promptly produced a bright and shining glass. "I see you've been fixin' this place up some." "Oh, yes," said Nat loftily. "We expect to have the best drugstore in the State. We're getting in new stock to-day, and naturally things are a little out of order, but we'll straighten up without delay. We'll try to deserve your esteemed patronage," he concluded doubtfully, with a hazy impression that such a speech would be considered appropriate under the circumstances. "You shall have it, Mr. Duncan, you shall have it!" "Thank you, I'm sure.... What syrup would you prefer?" "Just sody," stipulated Lockwood. His spasmodic wink again smote Duncan's understanding a mighty blow. Unable to believe his eyes, he hedged and stammered. Could it be--? This from the leader of the temperance movement in Radville? "I beg pardon----?" His denseness irritated Blinky slightly, with the result that the right side of his face again underwent an alarming convulsion. "I say," he explained carefully, "just--_plain_--sody." "On the level?" "What?" grunted Blinky; and blinked again. A smile of comprehension irradiated Nat's features. "Pardon," he said, "I'm a little new to the business." Blinky, fanning himself industriously, glared round the store while Duncan, turning his back, discreetly found and uncorked the whiskey bottle. He was still a trifle dubious about the transaction, but on the sound principles of doing all things thoroughly, poured out a liberal dose of raw, red liquor. Then, with his fingers clamped tightly about the bottom of the glass, the better to conceal its contents from any casual but inquisitive passer-by, he quickly filled it with soda and placed it before Blinky, accompanying the action with the sweetest of childlike smiles. Lockwood, nodding his acknowledgments, lifted the glass to his lips. Duncan awaited developments with some apprehension. To his relief, however, Blinky, after an experimental swallow, emptied the mixture expeditiously into his system; and smacked his thin lips resoundingly. "How," he demanded, "can anyone want intoxicatin' likers when they can get such a bracin' drink as that?" "I pass," Nat breathed, limp with admiration of such astounding hypocrisy. Blinky reluctantly pried a nickel loose from his finances and placed it on the counter. Duncan regarded it with disdain. "Ten cents more, please," he suggested tactfully. "What for?" "Plain sody." The explanation was accompanied by a very passable imitation of Blinky's blink. Happily for Duncan, Blinky has no sense of humour: if he had he would explode the very first time he indulged in introspection. "Not much," said he with his sour smile. "I guess you're jokin'.... Well, good luck to you, Mr. Duncan. I'd like to have you come round and see us some evenin'."