And when we finally pulled you loose, he picked up his hat and made a run for it." Ford meditated gloomily.

"I'll lick him again, and lick him when I'm sober, by thunder!" he promised grimly.

"Who was he, do you know ?" "No, I don't.

Little, dried-up geezer with a nose like a kit-fox's and a whine to his voice.

He won't come around here no more." The door opened gustily and a big fellow with a skinned nose and a whimsical pair of eyes looked in, hesitated while he stared hard at Ford, and then entered and shut the door by the simple method of throwing his shoulders back against it.
"Hello, old sport--how you comin' ?" he cried cheerfully.