“You ain’t in any condition to talk business jest now till you’re slicked off a little, elder,” he began in tones of abject apology.

“You bet your jeeroosly life I’m not!” cried the little man in a perfect frenzy of fury.

Again Hiram opened his mouth agitatedly, and his eyebrows wrinkled in pained surprise.  Yet once more his eyes sought the white tie and his hand reached for the little man’s arm, and, feeling at a loss just then for language of explanation, he hurried him up-stairs and into a room whose drawn curtains masked some of its untidiness.

“You wash up, elder,” he counselled.  “I won’t let anybody disturb you, and then whatever needs to be explained will be all explained.  Don’t you blame me till you know it all.”  And he backed out and shut the door.

He faced the Cap’n at the foot of the stairs.  The Cap’n had been watching intently the ascent of the two, and had gathered from the little man’s scuffles and his language that he was not a particularly enthusiastic guest.

“They come hard, but we must have ’em, hey?” he demanded, grimly.  “This is worse than shanghaiing for a Liverpool boardin’-house, and I won’t—­”

“S-s-s-sh!” hissed Hiram, flapping his hand.  “That’s the elder.”

“An elder?  A man that uses that kind of language?”

“He’s had good reason for it,” returned Hiram, fervently.  “It’s stout talk, but I ain’t blamin’ him.”  He locked the outside door.  “Them Double-yer T. Double-yers will be flockin’ this way in a few minutes,” he said, in explanation, “but they’ll have to walk acrost me in addition to the doormat to get him before I’ve had my say.”

But even while he was holding the unconvinced Cap’n by the arm and eagerly going over his arguments, once more they heard the treading of many feet in the office.  There were the W.T.W.’s in force, and they had with them a tall, gaunt man; and the presence of Mrs. Look and Mrs. Sproul, flushed but determined, indicated that the citadel had been betrayed from the rear.

“I present to you Reverend T. Thayer, gents,” said the president, icily, “and seein’ that he is field-secretary of the enforcement league, and knows his duty when he sees it clear, he will talk to you for your own good, and if it don’t do you good, I warn you that there will be something said from the pulpit to-morrow that will bring down the guilty in high places.”

“The elder!” gasped Hiram, whirling to gaze aghast at the Cap’n.  Then he turned desperate eyes up at the ceiling, where creaking footsteps sounded.  “Who in the name o’ Jezebel—­” he muttered.

Above there was a sort of spluttering bark of a human voice, and the next moment there was a sound as of some one running about wildly.  Then down the stairs came the guest, clattering, slipping, and falling the last few steps as he clung to the rail.  His eyes were shut tight, his face was dripping, and he was plaintively bleating over and over:  “I’m poisoned!  I’m blind!”