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Updated: May 11, 2025
He had his little old bottle of cocaine on the table beside him, and his dope-needle, which he had just filled, in his hand. I was sitting on the opposite side of the littered-up table, engaged in rolling a pill, that is to say, a coffin-nail.
"Harry," said he abruptly, jerking his free hand toward the hypodermic, "could you give up that dope-needle?" "Sure, I could if I wanted to!" asserted Pale Face Harry defiantly. "That's good," said Madison cheerfully. "Because you'll have to." "Eh?" Pale Face Harry stared at Doc Madison in amazement. "Because you'll have to by and by," said Madison coolly.
Nearly four hours yet before I am to go down to the village and grab the second gardener with his stolen pair of diamonds!" he remarked. Then turning to me, he added: "Doc, I believe the reaction is on me now. I haven't had a shot in the arm since yesterday morning. Have you got the dope-needle with you? No, that's right, I have it here in my pocket."
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