"If he falls down he goes t' bed, an' you stay.

If he makes it, he follows my instructions." When Hawksley returned to the starting line the walls rocked, there were two or three blinding stabs of pain; but he faced this unusual Irishman with never a hint of the torture.

A wild longing to be gone from this kindly prison--to get away from the thought of the girl.
"All right," said Ryan.

"Now toddle back t' bed." "Bed ?" "Yep.

Goin' t' give you a rub that'll start all your machinery workin'." Docilely Hawksley obeyed.