They soaped and bathed and dried their bodies.

Then they rested--sitting upon up-ended beer kegs in the storeroom of Pegleg McCarron--and talked a little of life.

Spike for a week had been laconic, even for him, and had taken little trouble to pull his punches.
To-day he revealed that the Interests had triumphed over his simple mind.

He was going and going quick.

He recovered a morsel of gum from beneath the room's one chair, put it again into commission, and spoke decisively.
"I'm goin' quick," he said.
"When do we leave ?" demanded Wilbur.
"I'm leavin' in two days." "We're leaving in two days." They chewed gum for an interval.
"Way it is," said Spike at length, "I'm nothing but about a fourth-rater in my game.