“A man’s friends forget him out here,” he complained; “he’s the same to them as dead.”
“It’s the way everywhere when a man wants to borrow money,” Mackenzie told him, not without the shade of a sneer.
“I’ve let them have enough in my time that they could afford to come across with what I asked for!”
“I think you’d better stick to the sheep business with 156 Tim,” Mackenzie advised, not unkindly, ashamed of his momentary weakness and scorn. “A man’s prospects don’t look very good back home when a bunch of parasites and grafters won’t come over with a little loan.”
“They can go to the devil! I can live without them.”
“And get fat on it, kid. Three years here will be little more to you than as many days, if you get––interested.”
Reid exclaimed impatiently, dismissing such assurance with a testy gesture.
“How much will you give me for my chances?” he asked.
“Nobody else can play your hand, kid.”
“On the square, Mackenzie. Will you give me a thousand dollars?”