stock that will net him two hundred per cent, at the very lowest, on the
capitalist's word of honour, what does he do but sneak out and take the
train for home on his return ticket that he'd made the capitalist buy
him.

"Ever talk to one of these rich capitalists that has rubber stock for
sale in South America or a self-starting banana orchard? You know how
good they are.

"You're certainly entitled to anything of your own that you've kept
after they get through with you. And would you think that this poor,
simple-minded old rancher would be any match for their wiles? But if
you knew he had been a match and had nicked 'em for at least three
hundred dollars, would you still think something malignant might be
put over on him by a mere scrub buckeroo named Sandy Sawtelle, that
never made a cent in his life except by the most degrading manual
labour? No, you wouldn't. No fair-minded judge of criminals would.

"But I admit I had a weak moment. Yes, sir; for a brief spell I was all
too human. Or I guess what it was. I was all blinded up with immoral
designs, this here snake-blooded Timmins having put things over on me
in stock deals from time to time till I'd got to lying awake nights
thinking how I could make a believer of him. I wanted him to know there
is a God, even if it hadn't ever seemed so to him.

"Of course I knew it would have to be some high-grade felony, he being
proof against common depredations. Well, then, along come this Sunday
paper, with two whole pages telling about how the meat of the common
whale will win the war, with a picture of a whale having dotted lines
showing how to butcher it, and recipes for whale patties, and so forth.