The savage was not yet exorcised.
"Why ?" he asked.

"Why should I have missed one of them?
It was my business not to." Jose Medina flung up his hands.
"I will not argue with you.

We are not made of the same earth." Hillyard's face changed to gentleness.
"Pretty nearly, my friend," he said, and he laid a hand on Jose Medina's shoulder.

"For we are good friends--such good friends that I do not scruple to drag you into the same perils as myself." Hillyard had not wasted his time during those three years when he loafed and worked about the quays of Southern Spain.

He touched the right chord now with an unerring skill.