'Can you blame me ?' The Keneu purred above his pipe like a large and very happy cat--'Don't blame you in the least.

It's uncommonly good of you, and all the rest of it, but every man--even you, Torp--must consider his work.

I know it sounds brutal, but Dick's out of the race,--down,--gastados expended, finished, done for.

He has a little money of his own.

He won't starve, and you can't pull out of your slide for his sake.