“Not much. You ain’t the kind of partner I want.”
“I was always unfortunate,” said Hogan.
“You were always lazy, I reckon. You were born tired, weren’t you?”
“My health ain’t good,” said Hogan. “I can’t work like you two.”
“You’ve got a healthy appetite,” said Mr. Bickford. “There ain’t no trouble there that I can see.”
Mr. Hogan had an easier time than before, but he hadn’t money to gamble with unless he deprived himself of his customary supply of food, and this he was reluctant to do.
“Lend me half-an-ounce of gold-dust, won’t you?” he asked of Joe one evening.
“What do you want it for—to gamble with?”
“Yes,” said Hogan. “I dreamed last night that I broke the bank. All I want is money enough to start me.”
“I don’t approve of gambling, and can’t help you.”