She'll take pity on you, Harrigan." The Irishman groaned.

"Think your thoughts an' say your say, McTee.

I can't lay a hand on you today." The latter stepped close, stupefied with wonder.
"Do I hear you right?
Are you taking water, Harrigan ?" Harrigan bowed his head, praying mutely for strength to endure.
"Don't say it!" pleaded McTee.

"I've hunted the world and worn the roads bare looking for one man who could stand up to me--and now that I've found him, he turns yellow inside!" And he looked upon the Irishman with a sick horror, as if the big fellow were turning into a reptile before his eyes.

On the face of Harrigan there was an expression like that of the starving man whom the fear of poison induces to push away food.
"There's no word I can speak to you, McTee.