"And do you mean to tell me that you call that disgraceful conduct?"
"I do. And I mean to tell you, moreover, that you can't be a friend of ours while you do it. I don't know how people feel about such things where you come from, Texas, but I do know that if people up here knew you had been in that condition not a soul would speak to you. There's very little room among decent people for the fellow who thinks it smart to make a fool of himself, and he usually finds it out, too, after it is too late. I never spent my time hanging around saloons, and I don't think much of fellows that do, either."
Mark could scarcely repress a smile as he watched the effect this brief sermon produced on the astounded Texan.
"I wonder what dad would say if he heard that!" was the thought in the latter's mind.
Texas was brought back from this thought rather suddenly to his own situation. For Mark and Dewey both turned away to leave him again.
"Look a-yere, Mark," he cried, seizing him by the arm again. "Look a-yere, ole man, won't you forgive me jest this once. Oh, please!"
And there were tears in the Texan's big gray eyes as he said it.
"But you'll do it again," Mark objected.
"'Deed I won't, man! 'Deed I won't. I'll swear I'll never do it again s'long as I live."
"But will you keep your promise?"