At the Eleventh Hour
they had a good strong dose inside them. None of your lime-juice-and-water tricks for me!"
Merritt gasped slightly.
"Oh—very well. Then I'll look in later to see how you are getting on."
He turned to his journal again. Deane, on his way to the door, said calmly over his shoulder:
"Then you'd better sing out loud before you come in. Hand—that black limb of Satan—came in on me suddenly last night, and I choked him silly before he could tell me who he was. I haven't got a rag of nerve left, that's the truth of it."
He departed, swearing a little as he ran against a camp-stool in his path.
"Yes sir! he's reached his limit. I've got to get him out of this somehow,"
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