You ought to know better 'n to act the way you've been acting.

I'm sure ashamed of you, Frank.

Adios--I'm going to hit the trail for camp." With that he pulled the door shut and walked away, with that same circumspect exactness in his stride which marks the drunken man as surely as does a stagger.
He remembered what it was that had brought him to town--which is more than most men in his condition would have done.

He went to the pest office and inquired for mail, got what proved to be the assayer's report, and went on.

He bought half a dozen bananas which did not remind him of that night when he had waited on the Oakland pier for the mysterious Foster, though they might have recalled the incident vividly to mind had he been sober.