The Argosy — page 344: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

272 The Amethyst Seal. Pegram, and Tulip had resumed her jog-trot pace on her way to the station. John had known Bruce Wenlock ever since the latter was a youth home from school for his holidays, and had had more than one half- crown from him for doing little commissions in Barrowcliff for the young man. It is scarcely needful to say that the old driver had not the slightest suspicion that the man sitting by his side was other than he had represented himself to be. Dare, who had heard mention made of John’s convivial propen- sities, at once perceived that the old man had not started on his cold drive without getting what he himself would have termed pretty well ‘“‘ primed” beforehand. This state of things to a certain extent helped forward the end Dare had in view, inasmuch as John would be likely to succumb more readily to further temptation in the same direction. In fact, they had not gone more than a hundred yards before Dare said: ‘‘ This is the sort of weather when a man feels the want of something warm inside to fight against the cold outside.” With that he drew his flask from his pocket, opened it, poured some of the contents into the cup, and pretended to drink it off. Then pouring a quantity more into the cup he handed it to Jobn. ‘* Swallow this, old boy ; you will find it do you good,” he said. John drew Tulip up into a walk, and took the flask in his left hand. He was quite aware that he had already taken as much, or more, perhaps, than was good for him. But the odour of the brandy was sweet to him, and the night was certainly very cold, and his conscience was not in the habit of making much of a fight on such occasions. The natural consequence ensued : he hesitated, and was lost. Lifting the silver cup to his lips, he swallowed the contents at one huge gulp. The spirit was potent, and John coughed a little as he jogged Tulip to get up her pace again. ‘“ That’s strong stuff, captain, and it’s got a queer twang with it,” he said. ‘ What may be the name of it, now ?” ‘‘Tt’s Dutch brandy ; what the mynheers drink in Holland.” ‘ Ah, I’ve heard say as how they are a rum lot over there.” It was not Dare’s policy to talk, so he made no reply. But if he did not talk he watched his companion keenly. The crucial moment was at hand. Presently John Pegram’s head began to nod ominously. He pulled himself up with a jerk, yawned, and rubbed his eyes with his dis- engaged hand. For two or three minutes all went well. Then his head began to nod again, then he drew himself up again, but not so successfully as before. One or two further faint struggles he made, but in vain. His eyes felt as if they had leaden weights on them, 2 numbness crept through all his limbs, his chin sank forward on his chest ; John was fast asleep. One hand still grasped the reins; he was kept from falling by the strap round his waist, which was securely ECONMCOOOKS.CO mn