I've seen that all along the line. One thing is sure,
Gladney has reached, as in his engineering phrase he'd say, the line of
saturation, and I the line of liver, thanks be to London and its joys!
And now for sulphur water and--damnation!"
This last word was not the real end to the sentence. He had, while
lighting his cigar, suddenly remembered something. He puffed the cigar
fiercely and immediately drew out a letter. He stood looking at it for a
minute and presently let go a long breath.
"So much for London and getting out of my old tracks! Now, it can't go for
another three days, and he needing the dollars. * * * I'll read it over
again anyhow." He took it out and read:
"Cheer up, and get out of the hospital as soon as you can and come over
yourself. And remember in the future that you can't fool about the fire
escapes of a thirteen story flat as you can a straight foothill of the
Rockies or a Lake Superior silver mine. Here goes to you $1,000 (per
draft), and please to recall that what's mine is yours, and what's yours
is your own, and there's a good big sum that'll be yours, concerning which
later. But take care of yourself, Gladney. You can't drown a mountain with
the squirt of a rattlesnake's tooth; you can't flood a memory with cognac.
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