"Now, what do you want to say to me ?" "I'm broke," Tip informed Ripley, plaintively.

"Stony! Understand?
I hain't got no money." "You don't expect me to furnish you with any ?" demanded Fred, his eyes opening wide in astonishment.

"I paid you, in full, last year." "Ye didn't pay me fer the stretch I done, did ye ?" demanded Tip, insolently.

"How much did ye pay me for keeping my mouth closed, so you wouldn't have to do your stretch ?" Fred winced painfully under that steady, half-ugly glance of the other.
"And now," continued Scammon, in a half-hurt way, "ye think it's hard if I tell ye that I want a few dollars to keep food in my insides." "You've got your father," hinted Fred.
"Sure, I have," Tip assented.
"But it's mighty little he'll do for me until I get a job and settle down to it." "Well, why don't you ?" asked Fred Ripley.

"That's the surest way to get straight with the world." "When I want advice," sneered Scammon, "I won't tramp all the way out here, an' ask _you_ for it.