"On the other hand," said Mr. Ravenslee, watching the smoke from his pipe with a dreamy eye, "on the other hand I gather she does not like—Mr. M'Ginnis! I wonder why?"
"You can search me!" answered Spike, shaking his head, "but it's a sure thing she ain't got no use for Bud."
"And yet—you go around with him, Spike."
"But don't I tell ye he's been good t' me! He's goin' t' match me with some top-liners; he says if I can stick it I'll be a champion sure."
"Yes," nodded Mr. Ravenslee, "but when?"
"Oh, Bud's got it all doped out. But say—"
"And in the meantime your sister will go on feeding you and clothing you and—"
"Cheese it, Geoff," cried the boy, flushing. "You make a guy feel like a two-spot in the discard! I told you I'd try to get a steady job, an' so I will—but I ain't goin' to quit the fightin' game for nobody! 'N' say—I'm sleepy. How about it? You can have my bed, or the couch here, or you can get in Hermy's—"
"Thanks, the couch will do, Spike."
"Then I guess it's me for the feathers!" said Spike, rising and stretching, "so long, Geoff!"