CHAPTER XXVIII.
A DROP OF POISON.
Frost was succeeding in bringing Robert Milburn
into open disrepute. That he was, will appear from
his statement of the case to a few friends who had
accompanied him into the bar room of hotel.
"I was saying, gentlemen, that it is such a deuced pity to see Milburn waste his talents, but the fact is, these self-destructive excesses must result in a total wreck. Am I not right?"
The man appealed to nodded approval.
"That's what you are."
"I say when a man gets so that he can walk up to a bar and take a drink alone, its about time to put a bridle on him."
"That's a fact," assented a third; "and that isn't all of it."
"No," put in Frost, "I saw him driving up and down Fifty-eighth Street with the Morris woman the other day, in the early afternoon. I just told him what I thought about it."
"What did he say?"
