You never deserved to have any friends, John Armitage!" "Jim Sanderson, come in!" Armitage grasped the hands of a red-bearded giant of forty, the possessor of alert brown eyes and a big voice.
"It's my rural habit of reading the register every night in search of constituents that brings me here.

They said they guessed you were in, so I just came up to see whether you were opening a poker game or had come to sneak a claim past the watch-dog of the treasury." The caller threw himself into a chair and rolled a fat, unlighted cigar about in his mouth.

"You're a peach, all right, and as offensively hale and handsome as ever.

When are you going to the ranch ?" "Well, not just immediately; I want to sample the flesh-pots for a day or two." "You're getting soft,--that's what's the matter with you! You're afraid of the spring zephyrs on the Montana range.

Well, I'll admit that it's rather more diverting here." "There is no debating that, Senator.