"You put trust in your brains, your money, and your standing to hold you unstained by all your left-handed business.

You expect no man to take heed of you, when the reek of it smells to high heaven.

Well, you deceive yourself the more.
These things get about; and they are none so unobserving a people, south of the Gila, where 't is fair life or death to them to note betweenwhiles all manner of small things--the set of a pack, the tongue of a buckle, the cleat of a mine ladder.

And your persecution of young Stanley, now.
Was you expectin' that to go unremarked?
'T is that has made Peter Johnson shy of all bait.

'T was a sorry business from the first--hazing that boy; I take shame to have hand in it.