Mrs. Moody grinned. The grin revealed a startlingly perfect set of false teeth, as beautiful as those of a girl of twenty. Their very beauty made them hideous in Mrs. Moody’s mouth. She nodded. “I want to see him.” “He’s upstairs. I’ll show you.” She turned around and took a lamp from a shelf behind her and lighted it. Then, with this in her right hand, and her petticoats gathered up in her left, she emerged from behind the bar and led the way to the stairs. The four men followed in silence. Kite led, and Routt was on his heels. The stairs were uncertain; but they made the ascent without disaster. Mrs. Moody led the way along a narrow hall to an open door, and stood aside here so that the others might enter. She was enjoying herself. The four men went into the dark room, and the woman followed and set the lamp on the mantel. This lamp illumined the place. The room contained a bed, a chair, and a wardrobe. On the chair were set two shoes. On the floor lay a hat and a coat and one sock. In the bed, sprawling on his back upon the dirty coverlet, was Wint. The woman crossed and shook him by the shoulder. She screamed at him: “Wake up, deary! Here’s gentlemen to see you!” Routt crossed quickly to her side, his face working. “Here. Let me!” She pushed him scornfully. “And don’t I know the ways of a drunk, at my age? Get back with you. It’s me that has a right to bring him out of it.” She shook Wint again; and this time he came slowly back to consciousness. He gasped, flung out his arms, stirred. His mouth twisted as though at a bad taste on his tongue. They waited for his eyes to open, but after a moment he settled back into sleep again. The woman looked up over her shoulder. “He’s had a full dose. Since noon he’s been so.” She shook Wint again, yelled into his ear, cuffed him. Thus presently he woke. His eyes opened, though he still lay on his back. His eyes opened, and they wandered idly about the room, fixing a dull gaze now on this face and now on that. Wint was usually amiable when he was drunk, and so when he discovered Routt, he grinned and tried to sit up. “Good ol’ Jack,” he said thickly. “Tried be a guardian t’ me. I fooled ’m. No hard feelin’s, Jack. Shake, ol’ man.” He leaned on one elbow and thrust out an unsteady hand. V. R. Kite grinned wickedly, and Routt stepped forward and sat down on the bed and put his arms about Wint’s shoulders. “Wint,” he begged. “Stiffen up! We’ve got to get you out of here.” Wint shook his head. “I’m comf’ble here. My hostess--” He waved a hand toward Mrs. Moody. “She’s a lady. I’ll stay right here. I’m always go’n’ stay here, Jack.” Routt shook him gently, cuffed his cheeks smartly. “Wint! Wint! Come out of it! Come on. Let’s go to my house. Let’s go home.” Wint recognized the others. “H’lo, V. R.,” he said amiably. “V. R., why this sudd’n s’lic’tude?”