"I ought not to have drank so much," he said, in unsteady accents.
"Pooh! it's nothing," said the other, lightly. "Where are you stopping?"
"We'd better walk; it will do you good to walk."
"Of course, I would only advise you for your good."
"I know it; but old fellow, why did you make me drink so much?"
"I thought you could stand it better. I'm as cool as a cucumber."
He pressed the young man's arm, and led him into a side street.
"What's that for? This ain't the way to St. Nicholas."
"You are not fit to go in yet. You need a longer walk, so that your condition will not be noticed when you go in."
Still Tony kept behind. All seemed right enough, but somehow he could not help feeling suspicious of the older man.
"I'll watch him," he thought, "and if he attempts any mischief I'll interfere."
The two men walked in a westerly direction, crossing several streets.
"Look here," said the young man, "we'd better turn back."
The other looked swiftly around, but did not notice Tony, who was tracking him in the darkness.
"Give me your watch and money at once, or I'll blow your brains out."
"Look here, you're only trying to play a joke on me."
"You're mistaken. I'm a desperate man. I will do as I say."
"Then you're a villain," said the young man, with spirit. "You've made me drunk in order to rob me."
"Precisely. Your money or your life. That's about what I mean."
"If you do it will be your last word. Now make up your mind."
The young man, instead of complying, endeavored to break away, but in his intoxication he had lost half his strength, and was no match for the other.
"You fool! your blood be on your own hands!" said his companion, and he drew a pistol from his side pocket.
An instant and he would have fired, but Tony was on the alert. He sprang forward, seized the would-be murderer by the arm, and the pistol went off, but the bullet struck a brick wall on the opposite side of the street.
"Police!" shouted Tony, at the top of his lungs.
"Confusion!" exclaimed the villain. "I must be getting out of this."
He turned to fly, but Tony seized him by the coat, and he struggled fiercely, but in vain.
"Let go, you young scoundrel!" he shouted, "or I'll shoot you."
"With an unloaded pistol?" asked Tony. "That don't scare much."