Then Max Rogosky gripped the bar

And shivered where he stood.

“You listen now to me,” he cried,

“Like business fellers should!

”I’ve paid for all my hundred dead,

I’ve paid, I’ve paid, I’ve paid.“

His ragged laughter rang, and died—

For he was sore afraid.

”I’ve paid for wooden hall and stair,

I’ve paid to strain my floors,