"You could see, in Miller to-night, what alcohol does toward making one strong.
That man is still powerful, but I'm satisfied that he was once a great deal stronger.

Miller's muscles have grown flabby since he began to drink.

His speed is less than it must have been formerly.
Even his nerve---his grit---has been impaired by the stuff he has been drinking.

Did you notice how early in the fight his wind left him?
The man has very little of his former strength, and the blame belongs to the liquor he has used." "Here's my gate," said Tom Drake, at last, as they halted before the little cottage.

"Come in.