The dazed eyes of the drunken man looked at him in helpless terror!

"I can't stay here!"

[Illustration: There was a sharp report, a smothered groan, then a
heavy fall.]

"You've got to stay here! Can't you see you are in no fix to run a
machine? Brace up, you idiot; we've got to _do_ something and do
it quick. Go down and try to crank up. Here's the door key! I'll be
there as soon as I can get the blood stopped!"

The man at the table staggered to the door, passed through the hall,
so close to Chick that he almost trod upon him, then went swaying down
the stairs, steadying himself by wall and banister. Chick heard the
side door slam, and the chug of the machine, then realized that it was
turning the corner.

The young man in the room rushed frantically to the window and leaned
out, then he said something savage under his breath, and plunged out
into the passage and headlong down the steps. Chick heard the side
door bang again, and a moment later the gallop of a horse.

Then everything was still, but the noisy beating of his heart that
threatened to burst its confines. Through the crack he saw the table
with its broken tumblers, and the whisky drip, dripping on the floor;
he saw the chairs overturned, and the gas-jet flickering in the wind
from the broken window.