When I let myself in at
midnight, the lantern here was right as a beacon--I particularly noticed
it."
"How long was it before you came out again?"
"Four hours afterwards--just a little while ago."
"Then you--fell asleep?" said Bart.
"Yes, I did, and no blame to me. I'm no skulker, as you well know. I
never did such a thing before in all my ten years of duty here. I was
doped."
"How do you know that?" asked Bart.
"I warmed up the coffee and had my lunch," narrated the watchman. "Then
I settled down for a ten minutes' comfortable smoke, as I always do. I
felt sort of sickish, right away. I had noticed that the coffee tasted
queer, but I fancied it might have been burned. Anyhow, half an hour ago
I seemed to come out of a stupor, my head fairly splitting, and my
stomach burning as though I'd taken poison. I thought of poison,
somehow, and more so than ever as I reached over to see if there was any
coffee left, for my throat was dry as a piece of pine board. There
wasn't, but at the bottom of the pail were two or three little sticky
brown dabs. I tasted the stuff. It was opium. I know, for I've used it
in sickness.
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