"So!" he exploded; "you are going to fail on us?"
Sam disclaimed it indignantly.
"What d'ye think I am?" he demanded—"a crook? And besides, I ain't got nothing to fail with."
Morris drew forward a chair. Sam sat down; and leaning back he nursed his cheek with his hand in an attitude of utter dejection.
"Well, what are you going to do?" Morris asked.
"That's what I come down here to find out," Sam replied.
Then ensued a silence of several minutes during which Morris gazed attentively at his customer.
"The fact is, Sam," he said at last, "you ain't got no head."
Sam nodded sadly.
"You're a fool, Sam," Morris went on in kindly accents; "and no matter how hard a fool would work he is a poor man all his life."