Part 22 (2/2)
Hopewell's eyes opened and almost immediately he staggered to his feet, reaching for the instrument.
”Wrong! wrong!” he muttered. ”Never do that. Crack the varnish. Spoil the tone.”
”Hullo, old fellow!” said Mr. Ma.s.sey, patting Hopewell on the shoulder.
”Guess you feel better--heh?”
”Ye--yes. Why! that you, Ma.s.sey?” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the storekeeper, in surprise.
”'Twas me when I got up this mornin',” grunted the druggist.
”Why--why--I don't remember coming here to your store, Ma.s.sey,” said the mystified Hopewell Drugg. ”I--I guess I didn't feel well.”
”I guess you didn't,” said the druggist, drily, eyeing him curiously.
”Was I sick? Lost consciousness? This is odd--very odd,” said Hopewell.
”I believe it must have been that lemonade.”
Mr. Cross Moore snorted. ”Lemonade!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. ”Suthin' b'sides tartaric acid to aid the lemons in that lemonade, Hopewell. You was drunk!”
Drugg blinked at him. ”That--that's a hard sayin', Cross Moore,” he observed gently.
”What lemonade was this, Hopewell?” demanded the druggist.
”I had some. Two gla.s.ses. The other musicians took beer. I always take lemonade.”
”That's what did it,” Frank Bowman said, aside to Janice. ”Joe Bodley doped it.”
”You had brandy, Hopewell. I could smell it on your breath,” said Ma.s.sey. ”And I know how that affects you. Remember?”
”Oh, no, Ma.s.sey! You know I do not drink intoxicants,” said Hopewell confidently.
”I know you are a dern fool, Hopewell--and mebbe I'm one!” declared Mr.
Cross Moore, suddenly rising. Then he bolted for the door and went out without bidding anybody good night.
Ma.s.sey looked after his brother committeeman with surprise. ”Now!” he muttered, ”what's got into him, I'd like for to be told?”
Meanwhile Hopewell was saying to Janice: ”Miss Janice, how do you come here? I know Amarilla expected you. Isn't it late?”
”Mr. Drugg,” said the girl steadily, ”we brought you here to be treated by Mr. Ma.s.sey--Mr. Bowman and I. I do not suppose you remember our getting you out of the Lake View Inn?”
”Getting me out of the Inn?” he gasped flus.h.i.+ng.
”Yes. You did not know what you were doing. They did not want you to leave the dance, but Mr. Bowman made them let you come away with us.”
”You don't mean that, Miss Janice?” said the storekeeper horrified.
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