night’s sleep straightens out a lot of things.”

Williamson, however, having had some sleep earlier in the night, was not
drowsy, now. He lighted a pipe, lingering on the platform deck. Eph, not
being a user of tobacco, went below to find that Doctor McCrea, from the
gunboat, was sitting in the cabin, reading a book he had chosen from the
book-case.

“I’ve brought the young men around somewhat,” reported the physician.
“I’ve made them throw off the drug, and now I’ve left some stuff with the
nurse to help brace them up. They’ll have sour stomachs and aching heads
in the morning, though.”

“But you noticed one thing, Doctor?” pressed Somers.

“What was that?”

“That there were no signs of liquor about them? Those boys never tasted a
drop of the vile stuff in their lives!”

“I’m inclined to believe you,” nodded the surgeon. “They have splendid,
clear skins, eyes bright as diamonds, sound, sturdy heart-beats, and
they’re full of vitality. I’ve met boys from the slums, once in a
while—beer-drinkers and cigarette-smokers. But such boys never show the
splendid physical condition that your friends possess.”

“You know, then, as well as I do, Doctor, that neither of my chums are
rowdies, and that, whatever happened to them to-night, they didn’t get to
it through any bad habits or conduct?”