She's thirty now, and she's stuck to me, and prayed for me, and believed in me for--a'most since we were kids together, an' she's written to me--'Frank Symmonds'-- once a month for ten years.

God bless her heart! That is what's kept me alive, and in every letter she's begged me to let her come to me, wherever I was.
But--I guess the devil didn't get quite all of me, for I couldn't, 'n' wouldn't.

But I've give in now, and we've fixed it up between us.

By this time she's on her way to my brothers in South America, and if I win--when we fight--I'm going where she is.

And that's the other end, Phil, so you see why I'm happy.