Thank you for such an ally.
_You_, at least, were not born to fail.

Yours, A.Newt." "Goslings, are there?
I believe you," said Belch to himself, inwardly chuckling as he read and folded Abel's letter.
"Ally, hey?
Well, that _is_ good," he continued, the chuckle rising into a laugh.

"Well, well, I thought Abel Newt was smart; but he doesn't even suspect, and I have played a deeper game than was needed." "I guess that will fix him," said Abel, as he looked over his letter, laughed, folded it, and sent it off.
Mr.Ele by many a devious path at length approached the object of his visit, and hoped that Mr.Newt would flesh his maiden sword in the coming fray.

Abel said, without removing his cigar, "I think I shall speak." He said no more.

Mr.Ele shook his foot with inward triumph.
"The Widow Jones will do a smashing business this winter, I suppose," he said, at length.
"Likely," replied Newt.
"Know her well ?" "Pretty well." Mr.Ele retired, for he had learned all that his friend meant he should know.
"Do I know Delilah ?" laughed Abel Newt to himself, as he said "Good-night, Ele." Yes he did.