"All I know is that you were loafin' when I saw ye, an' that was
enough."

"Look here, Simon Squabbles," and Jasper stepped close to his employer,
"if you were not as old as you are, I'd tie you into a bowknot in the
twinkling of an eye. You're not fit to be called a man, and not
another stroke of work do you get from me. Keep the fifty cents, if it
will do you any good. I am trying to make an honest living, but
creatures such as you are the ones who make it almost impossible."

The blood surged through Jasper's veins as he plodded along the muddy
road towards his humble cabin. The rain beat upon him and soaked his
clothes, but he did not seem to heed it, so filled was his mind with
the contemptible meanness of old Squabbles. He was in no pleasant
mood, and his hands often clenched hard together as he moved through
the darkness. What he was to do in the future, he did not know.
Neither did he much care. A reckless spirit was upon him. The whole
world was seething with injustice, so he believed. He had tried to be
honest, to make his way, but he had been foiled at every step. Why
should he try any longer? Simon Squabbles prospered through injustice;
Dick Sinclair could ride along in his car, dressed in the height of
fashion, while he had to eke out a precarious living by hoeing
potatoes. Dick's father had made his money in an unscrupulous manner,
and was held up as a shrewd business man. Would it not be as well for
him to hurl himself into the game and win out, no matter how?

Thinking thus, he came near his cabin, when a light arrested his
attention. He stopped short in his tracks and peered through the
darkness. At first he believed that he must be mistaken. But no, it
shone steadily before him, and he knew that some one was there. The