The medical man's dry allusions touched him on the raw all too often.
"Oh, of course, I told them all about that six thousand dollars! Of course! A lot of people suspect those McMahons of being crooked.
Well, it has never been proved.

Until it's proved, they're entitled--" Burlingame paused.
"To the benefit of the doubt, eh ?" "Why not?
I've heard you hold the balance pretty fair 'twixt your patients and the undertaker." Quite unmoved, the Young Doctor coolly replied: "In your own happy phrase--of course! I get a commission from the undertaker when the patient's a poor man; when he's a rich man, I keep him alive! It pays.

The difference between your friends the criminals and me is that probably nobody will ever be able to catch me out.

But the McMahons, we'll get them yet,"-- a stern, determined look came into his honest eye,--"yes, we'll get them yet.

They're a nasty fringe on the skirts of Askatoon.
"But there it is as it is," he continued.