"There is a poem that I used to read, or hear some one read," he observed, "that fills the bill for any one with your point of view, I should say.

Something about a fellow's not being afraid to put all his money on one horse, or the last card--about his not deserving anything if he isn't afraid to risk everything.

Wish I could remember it." Jed looked up from the lathe.
"'He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To win or lose it all.' That's somethin' like it, ain't it, Charlie ?" he asked.
Phillips was amazed.

"Well, I declare, Winslow," he exclaimed, "you beat me! I can't place you at all.

Whoever would have accused you of reading poetry--and quoting it." Jed rubbed his chin.