It's hard to go ag'in your own gang.

Leastways, 't ain't in me to do it.

Now I've had enough of this gab, an' I'm goin' to skip out.
Good-bye, young feller.

I wish you well." Bringing his whip once more, and sharply this time, across the tops of his own boots, he strode out of the hotel.

His walk was like his talk, straight and decisive.