"I'll take a look at the dogs before I turn in." He went outside and passed along into the yard, that was bounded on three sides by pens where the dogs were kept.

A bull terrier dying of gastritis recognized him and began to whimper feebly.
Marcus paid no attention to the dogs.

For the first time that evening he was alone and could give vent to his thoughts.

He took a couple of turns up and down the yard, then suddenly in a low voice exclaimed: "You fool, you fool, Marcus Schouler! If you'd kept Trina you'd have had that money.

You might have had it yourself.