You know what a temper he's got, especially when he's been drinking at all.

I shouldn't wonder if he hadn't a fight one fine day and got landed on the chin, or something, and left." "Oh! Carfax can look after himself all right.

He's used to that kind of company." Olva gazed, through the smoke of his pipe, dreamily into the fire.
"You don't like him," Craven said suddenly.
Olva turned slowly in his chair and looked at him.

"Why! What makes you say that ?" "Something Carfax told me the other day.

We were sitting one evening in his room and he suddenly said to me, 'You know there _is_ one fellow in this place who hates me like poison--always has hated me.' I asked him who it was.