"That's right, Mr. Swift, but I've had bad luck. I did find the lost gold mine I went after some years ago, you remember."
"Yes, only to lose it because the missing heirs turned up, and took it away from you. You could have made more at straight mining in the time you spent on that scheme."
"Yes, I suppose I could; but this is going to be a success—I feel it in my bones."
"That's what you say, every time, Alec. No, I don't believe I want to go into this thing."
"Oh, come—do! For the sake of old times. Don't you recall how you and I used to prospect together out in the gold country; how we shared our failures and successes?"
"Yes, I remember that, Alec. Mighty few successes we had, though, in those days."
"But now you've struck it rich, pardner," went on the pleader. "Help me out in this scheme—do!"
"No, Alec. I'd rather give you three or four thousand dollars for yourself, if you'd settle down to some steady work, instead of chasing all over the country after visionary fortunes. You're getting too old to do that."
"Well, it's a fact I'm no longer young. But I'm afraid I'm too old to settle down. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, pardner. This is my life, and I'll have to live it until I pass out. Well, if you won't, you won't, I suppose. By the way, where is Tom? I'd like to see him before I go back. He's a mighty fine boy."
"That's what he is!" broke in a new voice. "Bless my overshoes, but he is a smart lad! A wonderful lad, that's what! Why, bless my necktie, there isn't anything he can't invent; from a button-hook to a battleship! Wonderful boy—that's what!"