The speaker sank into one of the big armchairs, and Admiral Dewey crouched beneath it; he did not snarl again, but he never took his eyes off Jurgis. He was perfectly sober, was the Admiral.

The butler held the chair at the opposite side of the table, and Jurgis thought it was to keep him out of it; but finally he understood that it was the other’s intention to put it under him, and so he sat down, cautiously and mistrustingly. Master Freddie perceived that the attendants embarrassed him, and he remarked, with a nod to them, “You may go.”

They went, all save the butler.

“You may go too, Hamilton,” he said.

“Master Frederick⁠—” the man began.

“Go!” cried the youngster, angrily. “Damn you, don’t you hear me?”

The man went out and closed the door; Jurgis, who was as sharp as he, observed that he took the key out of the lock, in order that he might peer through the keyhole.

Master Frederick turned to the table again. “Now,” he said, “go for it.”

Jurgis gazed at him doubtingly. “Eat!” cried the other. “Pile in, ole chappie!”

“Don’t you want anything?” Jurgis asked.

“Ain’t hungry,” was the reply⁠—“only thirsty. Kitty and me had some candy⁠—you go on.”

So Jurgis began, without further parley. He ate as with two shovels, his fork in one hand and his knife in the other; when he once got started his wolf-hunger got the better of him, and he did not stop for breath until he had cleared every plate. “Gee whiz!” said the other, who had been watching him in wonder.

Then he held Jurgis the bottle. “Lessee you drink now,” he said; and Jurgis took the bottle and turned it up to his mouth, and a wonderful unearthly liquid ecstasy poured down his throat, tickling every nerve of him, thrilling him with joy. He drank the very last drop of it, and then he gave vent to a long-drawn “Ah!”

“Good stuff, hey?” said Freddie, sympathetically; he had leaned back in the big chair, putting his arm behind his head and gazing at Jurgis.