Then the alcohol overcame him all in an instant like a poisonous gas.

He swayed forward in his chair and fell across the stripped table, his head rolling inertly between his outstretched arms.

He did not move again.
In a neighbouring room young Haight had been dining with some college fellows, fraternity men, all friends of his, upon whose coach he had ridden to and from the game.

He had heard Vandover and Ellis in the room across the hall and had recognized their voices.

Haight had never been a friend of Ellis, but no one, not even Turner, had grieved more over Vandover's ruin than had his old-time college chum.
Young Haight heard the noise of the falling crockery as Ellis swept the table clear, and turned his head sharply, listening.