Explore "Havoc" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"What's wrong, old man? " Bellamy asked quickly.
Dorward from a side table had seized the bottle of whiskey and a siphon, and was mixing himself a drink with trembling fingers. He tossed it off before he spoke a word. Then he turned around and faced his companion. "Bellamy," he ordered, "lock the door."