Jim shook his head.
“What did you do with the horses you took from Mrs. Clunie’s barn?”
Jim shook his head again.
“They were your own horses;––where did you get them?”
Jim’s shock of auburn hair waggled a negative.
“And that’s what the booze is doing for you, old man. You won’t know your own name pretty soon.”
Suddenly Phil’s voice changed and he slipped his arm across his friend’s shoulder.
“Jim,––Jim,––we’ve been good pals. Won’t you quit this crazy behaviour, and we’ll stay good pals right to the finish?”
“When do you want me to start?” asked Jim quietly.