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When, finally, the old fellow was revived he faintly declined any more refreshment, and with a sad "good-night," faded away in the twilight. "Gee!" exclaimed Tacks, as he watched the retreating form, "I'm afraid I upset some tobascum sauce in that glass by mistake." Presently, Bunch went off to the depot to take a train back to the city, and for some little time we sat in silence on the piazza.
"I'm stabbed; stabbed!" groaned the startled jag-carpenter, clutching wildly at his shirt-front as the plate-passers bore him away to a haven of rest. "It's my clam cocktail," whispered Stephen to me; "I poured it in his wine-glass 'cause they was too much tobascum sauce in it for me!" "Brave boy!" I answered. "It was a kindly deed."
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