Oakhurst (excitedly, aside). Shall I throw him from the window! The dog!--even he! Capper (approaching MR. OAKHURST). You have done well. Be bold. I will see you through. As for THAT man (pointing to CONCHO), leave him to ME! (Lays his hand on Concho's shoulder, and leads him to sofa R. OAKHURST takes seat in chair L. as SANDY enters quietly from door L., and stands leaning upon his chair.) Starbottle (rising). Ladies and gentlemen, we are waiting only for the presence of Mr. Alexander Morton, sen. I regret to say that for the last twenty-four hours--he has been--er--exceedingly preoccupied with the momentous cares of the--er--occasion. You who know the austere habits of my friend and--er--client will probably understand that he may be at this very moment engaged in prayerful and Christian meditation, invoking the Throne of Grace, previous to the solemn duties of--er--er--tonight. Enter SERVANT. Servant. Mr. Alexander Morton, sen. Enter OLD MORTON, drunk, in evening costume, cravat awry, coat half-buttoned up, and half-surly, half-idiotic manner. All rise in astonishment. SANDY starts forward. OAKHURST pulls him back. Morton (thickly). Don't rish! Don't rish! We'll all sit down! How do you do, sir? I wish ye well, miss. (Goes around and laboriously shakes hands with everybody.) Now lesh all take a drink! lesh you take a drink, and you take a drink, and you take a drink! Starbottle. Permit me, ladies and gentlemen, to--er--explain: our friend is--er--evidently laboring under--er--er--accident of hospitality! In a moment he will be himself. Old Morton. Hush up! Dry up--yourself--old turkey-cock! Eh! Sandy (despairingly). He will not understand us! (To STARBOTTLE.) He will not know me! What is to be done? Old Morton. Give me some whishkey. Lesh all take a drink! (Enter SERVANT with decanter and glasses.) Old Morton (starting forward). Lesh all take a drink! Sandy. Stop! Old Morton (recovering himself slightly). Who says stop? Who dares countermand my orderish? Concho (coming forward). Who? I will tell you: eh! eh! Diego--dismissed from the rancho of Don Jose for drunkenness! Sandy--the vagabond of Red Gulch! Sandy (passionately seizing OLD MORTON'S arm). Yes, Diego--Sandy--the outcast--but, God help me! no longer the drunkard. I forbid you to touch that glass!--I, your son, Alexander Morton! Yes, look at me, father: I, with drunkenness in my blood, planted by you, fostered by you--I whom you sought to save--I--I stand here to save you! Go! (To SERVANT.) Go! While he is thus, I--I, am master here! Old Morton (cowed and frightened). That voice! (Passing his hand over his forehead.) Am I dreaming Aleck, where are you? Alexander, speak, I command you: is this the truth? Oakhurst (slowly). It is!