"What did he say?" I asked of Eustace as he came up.

"It was exceedingly distasteful, Major." Eustace was not a little
perturbed by the encounter. "He read every word of that disgusting
article in the _Argus_ and then he begged me to go into that Skeyhan's
drinking-place with him and have a glass of liquor. I said very sharply,
'Colonel Potts, I have never known the taste of liquor in my whole life
nor used tobacco in any form.' At that he looked at me in the utmost
astonishment and said: 'Bless my soul! _Really?_ Young man, don't you
put it off another day--life is awful uncertain.' 'Why, Colonel,' I
said, '_that_ isn't any way to talk,' but he simply tore down the
street, saying that I was taking great chances."

"And now he is reading his piece to Barney Skeyhan!" I groaned.

"Rum is the scourge of our American civilization," remarked Eustace,
warmly.

"Barney Skeyhan's rum would scourge anybody's civilization," I said.

"Of course I meant _all_ civilization," suggested Eustace, in polite
help to my lame understanding.

Precisely at nine o'clock Potts issued from Skeyhan's, bearing his bag,
cane, and _Argus_ as before. He looked up and down the quiet street
interestedly, then crossed over to Hermann Hoffmuller's, another
establishment in which our civilization was especially menaced. He was
followed cordially by five of Little Arcady's lesser citizens, who had
obviously sustained the relation of guests to him at Skeyhan's. In
company with Westley Keyts and Eubanks, I watched this procession from