While Moriarty held the funnel between the patient's teeth and induced him to swallow, Andy gently poured.
With the skill of an expert chloroformist, Moriarty held his head. He knew his patient's constitution, and he knew the strength of the medicine. Helpless intoxication was not his object; his game was deeper than that.
In the middle of the third glass the victim began to show signs of merriment--real merriment. All his anger had vanished. Strange to say, he still resisted, tossing his head from side to side, as much as he was able, but all the time he was laughing as though he were being tickled.
"He's comin' up to the scratch," said Moriarty. "Aisy does it. Let him be for a minit, for we have to reckon on the cowld night air, and I want him to keep his pins. Well, Mr. Piper, and how are you feelin' now?"
"Whatsh your name?" cried Piper, sudden anger seizing him. "I'll give you shomething. Come on!"
He struck out with his foot, and sent Andy flying, bottle, glass, and all. Next second, his legs now released, he landed Moriarty a kick in the face that would have stunned an ordinary man.
"Come on!" cried Piper wildly laughing, still on his back and striking out with his feet. "Come on! One down, t'other on!"
"He's proper and fit now," said Moriarty, his face streaming with gore, but seemingly utterly oblivious of the fact. "Come on, and we'll run him down to the p'leece office before the fight's out of him."
He rushed in on the resisting one, got another kick--this time in the stomach--and, seizing the maniac by the collar of his coat, got him on his legs, using him as gently as though he were dealing with a refractory child. Another man, had he received the kicks that Moriarty had received, would have paid them back in ill-treatment, but Moriarty never lost his temper, and it was a rule of honour with him that a drunken man should be treated with all possible tenderness and consideration. He would just as soon have struck a priest, a woman, or a child as a man in liquor.
Once on his legs, all fight seemed to die out of Mr. Piper. Wild hilarity and attempts at song took the place of bellicosity. Bad language also came to the surface, and found expression.
"He'll do," said Moriarty. "He'll do. Andy, clip howld of his other arm. Now, then, open the door, and down to the village with him. The thing that's thrubblin' me is he's gone undher so quick that maybe he's only shamming."