They do the lootin'; we settlers get the blame; an' the whole perishing country's going to blazes as fast as a lump of ice melting in hell--but not so fast as I'd like to see it go.

Have some o' this whisky, won't you ?" I was scarcely listening to him, but he seemed to get drunk just "so far and no further," and Fred found him worth attention.

It happened that Fred, Will and I were all thinking of the same thing.

Will put a hand to his neck and stroked the little scar the Arab knife had made in Zanzibar.
"What sort of a country's this for women ?" Fred demanded.
"Which women ?" Brown asked in sort of mild amazement.
"White women ?" "Rotten! Leastwise, there aren't any.

Yes, there's three.