the apple-jack. James could not help staring at the elder doctor with
more and more amazement. He seemed to assimilate perfectly with his
surroundings. The tormented expression had gone from his face. He was
simply convivial, and of the same sort as Georgie K. He no longer
looked even a gentleman. He had become of the soil, the New Jersey soil.
As they drank and played, he told stories, and roared with laughter at
them. The stories also belonged to the soil, they were folk lore, wild,
coarse, but full of humanity. Although Doctor Gordon drank freely of the
rich mellow liquor, it did not apparently affect him. His cheeks above
his gray furze of beard became slightly flushed, that was all.

James drank rather sparingly. The stuff seemed to him rather fiery, and
he remembered the goddess in the doctor's house. He could imagine her
look of high disdain at him should he return under the influence of
liquor. Besides, he did not particularly care for the apple-jack.

It was midnight before they left. Georgie K. went to the door with them,
and he and the doctor shook hands heartily. "Come again," said Georgie
K., "and the sooner the better, and bring the young Doc. We'll make him
have a good time."

Until they were near home, Doctor Gordon continued his strangely
incongruous conversation, telling story after story, and shouting with
laughter. When they came in sight of the house Gordon stopped suddenly
and leaned against a great maple beside the road. He stared at the
house, two of the upper windows of which were lighted, and gave a great
sigh, almost a groan. James stopped also and stared at him. He wondered
if the apple-jack had gone to the doctor's head after all. "What is the
matter?" he ventured.