Part 11 (1/2)

”Oh, that is not necessary; we are old acquaintances, but I did not expect to have the pleasure of meeting him to-night. I thought he had migrated northward. I am happy to meet you again, Mr.

Ashton; but it is cold, let us step into Conglin's, he is open yet. I want a few moments' conversation with you, Chappell.”

Chappell asked Ashton if he would have any objections, and he, in reply, said if they would excuse him he'd journey homeward, for his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Reid, with whom he was stopping, would not go to bed until he returned, and he would be sinning against their hospitality by remaining longer.

”But a few moments will not make any particular difference,” said Lawrence, ”and you will particularly oblige me if you step in for a moment or two, as I should like to have your opinion in regard to something of consequence.”

Ashton, who, as the reader has already discovered, had a facile disposition, and was easily persuaded, yielded, and followed Lawrence and Chappell into the cosy sitting-room of Conglin's hotel.

The fire was burning brightly, and the atmosphere of the room was particularly warm and comfortable to men who had been out in the chill night air as they had been, with clothing that was not heavy enough to keep them warm.

”Just remain here a moment or two, gentlemen,” said Lawrence, ”I have a word or two to say to our mutual friend, Tom.”

According to his promise he soon returned, but the landlord accompanied him carrying a tray, upon which there were three steaming gla.s.ses of whiskey punch.

”Gentlemen,” said Lawrence, ”it is not necessary for me to introduce you to Tom Conglin, for you have both been acquainted with him and his liquors in the long ago, and you know he always kept the very best brands. But I think this old rye is better than any he has ever had before. It is only, however, as the Scripture says ”darkening counsel by words,” to tell either of you the quality of liquor, for you have only to taste to immediately and correctly pa.s.s judgment. It was in regard to this matter I asked for your counsel. Come, gentlemen, after paying your respects to our jolly host we will do honor to his liquor.”

They both shook hands with old Tom Conglin, a large, red-faced individual, who, evidently, knew the flavor of his favorite liquors. He expressed himself as particularly delighted to meet Ashton, and said he was sorry that they lost him; which no doubt was true, for Ashton had been one of his best customers, and had left with him many a dollar.

Chappell, who was standing near to Ashton, and was afraid he was about to refuse, whispered to him not to do so. ”It will give offence,” he said. ”A gla.s.s will do you no harm, and may do you a great deal of good.”

When the tray was presented he hesitated a moment, and then stifling, as men will sometimes, every warning of conscience, he took the fatal gla.s.s, and was again the foolish victim of his facile disposition and his appet.i.te for strong drink.

He might, if he had watched the faces of Chappell and Lawrence, have noticed that a significant look pa.s.sed between them when he took the gla.s.s, and that a gleam of h.e.l.lish triumph shone in their eyes.

”Come, Tom, bring us some more liquor,” said Chappell. ”I will have another gla.s.s of punch. What will you have, gentlemen?” ”I will have the same,” said Lawrence.

”What will you have, Ashton?” and as Ashton hesitated a moment before replying Chappell spoke for him: ”Silence gives consent; he will keep us company.”

”Of course you will bring one for yourself, Tom.”

”I never refuse to take a gla.s.s with a gentleman, especially in such company as the present.”

They were soon engaged sipping their fuming punch, and in a very short time Ashton seemed the gayest and most voluble of the company.

CHAPTER XIX.

A STARTLING NEWSPAPER ITEM TO MR. AND MRS. REID.

That night Mr. and Mrs. Reid waited long and anxiously for Ashton, but as he did not return they concluded he must have decided to remain at the Metropolitan, so at one o'clock in the morning they retired, not, however, without misgivings that all was not right.

They slept long that morning, and when they had completed their toilets Mr. Reid found the Rochester _Democrat_ lying at the door. He read it leisurely as he ate his toast and sipped his coffee, now and then reading an item which he thought would be particularly interesting to his wife. Suddenly he exclaimed:

”My G.o.d, it is Ashton!” And in his excitement he sprang from his seat, nearly upsetting the table and seriously frightening Mrs.

Reid.

”What is it Robert?” she said. ”Oh, read it please.”