Weston nodded. "I was sick of drink, but I got sick of it too late, you see. I’d put a lasso round my own neck just when I most wanted to be free."
His hand again wandered toward his breast pocket.
"But now," he added, "I am free."
He lifted his head proudly and turning, was aware for the first time of Leslie’s presence. As the hands of the two met Ross strode across the room and began speaking loudly and at random to the others, leaving Sue’s lover and Sue’s brother to talk alone.
Presently, however, unable to restrain the question longer, Ross turned again on Weston.
"Sandy stole our sticks, didn’t he?" he demanded, "and planned the whole thing to get rid of me?"
Weston turned slowly back to his bunk. For a moment he fumbled among the blankets in silence. Then he faced about again resolutely.
"Say, Doc, you have your claims here secure, haven’t you, and Sandy has lost ’em?"
"And you’ve got outside of enough of those books so you can go to college next year, eh?"