Who on this earth is it he reminds me of ?" Trent laughed shortly.
"There's never a man in Buckomari--no, nor in all Africa--could keep Monty from the drink," he said.

"Live with him for a month and try it.
It wouldn't suit you--I don't think." He glanced disdainfully at the smooth face and careful dress of their visitor, who bore the inspection with a kindly return of contempt.
"I've no desire to try," he said; "but he reminds me very strongly of some one I knew in England.

What do you call him--Monty ?" Trent nodded.
"Never heard any other name," he said.
"Have you ever heard him speak of England ?" Francis asked.
Trent hesitated.

What was this newcomer to him that he should give away his pal?
Less than nothing! He hated the fellow already, with a rough, sensitive man's contempt of a bearing and manners far above his own.
"Never.

He don't talk." Captain Francis moved a step towards the huddled-up figure breathing heavily upon the floor, but Trent, leaning over, stopped him.
"Let him be," he said gruffly.