When God Laughs: and other stories by Jack London
page 79 of 186 (42%)
page 79 of 186 (42%)
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neat as you please in your half the porterhouse.--Hold on! Where're you
goin'?" Jim had made a dash for the door, and was throwing back the bolts. Matt sprang in between and shoved him away. "Drug store," Jim panted. "Drug store." "No you don't. You'll stay right here. There ain't goin' to be any runnin' out an' makin' a poison play on the street--not with all them jools reposin' under the pillow. Savve? Even if you didn't die, you'd be in the hands of the police with a whole lot of explanations comin'. Emetics is the stuff for poison. I'm just as bad bit as you, an' I'm goin' to take a emetic. That's all they'd give you at a drug store, anyway." He thrust Jim back into the middle of the room and shot the bolts into place. As he went across the floor to the food shelf, he passed one hand over his brow and flung off the beaded sweat. It spattered audibly on the floor. Jim watched agonizedly as Matt got the mustard-can and a cup and ran for the sink. He stirred a cupful of mustard and water and drank it down. Jim had followed him and was reaching with trembling hands for the empty cup. Again Matt shoved him away. As he mixed a second cupful, he demanded-- "D'you think one cup'll do for me? You can wait till I'm done." Jim started to totter toward the door, but Matt checked him. "If you monkey with that door, I'll twist your neck. Savve? You can take yours when I'm done. An' if it saves you, I'll twist your neck, anyway. |
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