"Don't worry, Austin; he's sound at the core." Austin considered his cigar-end, turning it round and round.

"There's good stock in the boy; I always knew it--even when he acted like a yellow pup.

You see, Phil, that my treatment of him was the proper treatment.

I was right in refusing to mollycoddle him or put up with any of his callow, unbaked impudence.

You know yourself that you wanted me to let up on him--make all kinds of excuses.