When the crowd had surged back to the organ Pierce found a place at the bar and called for a drink of whisky—­the first he had ever ordered.  This was the end he told himself.

He poured the glass nearly full, then he gulped the liquor down.  It tasted much as it smelled, hence he derived little enjoyment from the experience.  As he stripped a bill from his sizable roll of bank-notes the bartender eyed him curiously and seemed upon the point of speaking, but Pierce turned his shoulder.

After perhaps five minutes the young man acknowledged a vague disappointment; if this was intoxication there was mighty little satisfaction in it, he decided, and no forgetfulness whatever.  He was growing dizzy, to be sure, but aside from that and from the fact that his eyesight was somewhat uncertain he could feel no unusual effect.  Perhaps he expected too much; perhaps, also, he had drunk too sparingly.  Again he called for the bottle, again he filled his glass, again he carelessly displayed his handful of paper currency.

Engaged thus, he heard a voice close to his ear; it said: 

“Hello, man!”

Pierce turned to discover that a girl was leaning with elbows upon the plank counter at his side and looking at him.  Her chin was supported upon her clasped fingers; she was staring into his face.

She eyed him silently for a moment, during which he returned her unsmiling gaze.  She dropped her eyes to the whisky-glass, then raised them again to his.

“Can you take a drink like that and not feel it?” she inquired.

“No.  I want to feel it; that’s why I take it,” he said, gruffly.

“What’s the idea?”

“Idea?  Well, it’s my own idea—­my own business.”

The girl took no offense; she maintained her curious observation of him; she appeared genuinely interested in acquainting herself with a man who could master such a phenomenal quantity of liquor.  There was mystification in her tone when she said: 

“But—­I saw you come in alone.  And now you’re drinking alone.”

“Is that a reproach?  I beg your pardon.”  Pierce swept her a mocking bow.  “What will you have?”

Without removing her chin from its resting-place, the stranger shook her head shortly, so he downed his beverage as before.  The girl watched him interestedly as he paid for it.

“That’s more money than I’ve seen in a month,” said she.  “I wouldn’t be so free and easy with it, if I were you.”

“No?  Why not?”

She merely shrugged, and continued to study him with that same disconcerting intentness—­she reminded him of a frank and curious child.