Moreover, he never kicks.

If you told him to work half the night, on top of a day's work, he'd do it." "Then Reade, if he recovers, must be watched and rewarded for anything he does for us," murmured Mr.Thurston.
"Don't say, 'if he recovers,' chief," begged Jack.

"I hate to think of his not pulling through from this snakebite." "What became of the reptile that did the trick ?" asked Mr.Thurston.
"That crawler will never bite anything else," muttered Rutter.
"I got the thing with my riding quirt." Not very long after Harry Hazelton reached camp, well in advance of the chainmen, for Harry, good school athlete that he was, had jog-trotted every step of the way in.
"Where's Tom ?" Hazelton demanded.
"Here," called a voice from Reade's tent.
Hazelton turned in that direction, but Mr.Thurston looked out from the large tent, calling: "Don't go there now, Hazelton.

You wouldn't be admitted.

Come here." Despite his long run, Harry's face displayed pallor as he came breathlessly into Mr.Thurston's field abode.