"And to think that you're Artie Quibble! And who may this be ?" pointing to Hawkins.
"I'll tell you all," said I, "later on.

For the present, he's a friend of mine who's travelling with me--more on business than on pleasure." Quirk's story was soon told.

As I already expected, drink had become his master.

The school had fallen away, his wife had died, and in a fit of despondency he had--he said accidentally, but I believe intentionally--overturned a lamp and set fire to the house.
Now he lodged in a small hotel farther down the road, living from hand to mouth, and doing a day's work here and there when chance offered.

I gave him fifty dollars and bade him good-bye, for he had no accommodations to offer us even had I been able to induce Hawkins to remain there.