He never had been so sick in all his life before, and, my, how

his poor head did hurt. Finding that it only seemed to make

matters worse when he closed his eyes Billy opened them

again.

He looked about the room in which he lay. He found it a

stuffy hole filled with bunks in tiers three deep around the

sides. In the center of the room was a table. Above the table a

lamp hung suspended from one of the wooden beams of the

ceiling.

The lamp arrested Billy's attention. It was swinging back

and forth rather violently. This could not be a hallucination.

The room might seem to be rising and falling, but that lamp

could not seem to be swinging around in any such manner if

it were not really and truly swinging. He couldn't account for

it. Again he shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened

them to look again at the lamp he found it still swung as

before.

Cautiously he slid from his bunk to the floor. It was with

difficulty that he kept his feet. Still that might be but the

effects of the liquor. At last he reached the table to which he

clung for support while he extended one hand toward the

lamp.

There was no longer any doubt! The lamp was beating

back and forth like the clapper of a great bell. Where was he?

Billy sought a window. He found some little round, glass-covered

holes near the low ceiling at one side of the room. It

was only at the greatest risk to life and limb that he managed

to crawl on all fours to one of them.

As he straightened up and glanced through he was appalled

at the sight that met his eyes. As far as he could see there was

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