The crashing of the axes and the grumble of the curious crowd
assembled in the street were distinctly audible. The officer needed no
other confirmation; and yet--instant by instant it became more clearly
apparent that he had drunk too deeply to be able to think for himself.
Standing with a hand on the table, he rocked to and fro until, losing
his balance, he sat down heavily.

"My Gawd!" he cried. "I'm done for!"

"Nonsense! No more than I--unless you're too big a fool to take a word
of advice. Here--off with your coat."

"What's that?"

"I say, off with your coat, man--and look sharp! Get it off and I'll
hide it while you slip into one of those waiter's jackets over there.
Then, if they find us here, we can pretend to be employees. You
understand?"

"We'll get pinched, all the same," the man objected stupidly.

"Well, if we do, it only means a trip to the Night Court, and a fine
of five or ten dollars. You'll be up to-morrow for absence from post,
of course, but that's better than being caught half-drunk in the
basement of a gambling house on your beat."

Impressed, the officer started to unbutton his tunic, but hesitated.

"S'pose some of the boys recognise me?"