don't want to live; but--but I don't want to finish this way, like a
rat. Help me, Bob, to--to finish decent. I know I don't deserve it
from you; but--but you wouldn't want to see me go like this--dirty and
ragged? I--I want to die clean and--and well dressed. Please, Bob,
for old time's sake?"

"Nonsense, man!" says Mr. Robert. "You're not going to die now."

"Yes, I am, Bob," says Bunny. "I--I can tell. I want to, anyway.
I--I'm no good. And I'm in rotten shape. Drink, you know, and I've a
bad heart. I'm near starved too. It's been days since I've eaten
anything--days!"

"By George!" says Mr. Robert. "Then you must have something to eat.
Here, let me help you up. Torchy, you take the other side. Steady,
now! I didn't know you were in such a condition; really, I didn't.
And we'll get you filled up right away."

"I--I couldn't eat," says Bunny. "I don't want anything. I just want
to quit--only--not like this; but clean, Bob, clean and dressed decent
once more."

Say, maybe you can guess about how cheerin' it was, hearin' him say
that over and over in that whiny, tremblin' voice of his, watchin' them
shifty, deep-set eyes glisten glassy under the light. About as
comfortin' a sight, he was, as a sick dog in a corner. And of all the
rummy ideas to get in his nut--that about bein' dressed up to die! But
he keeps harpin' away on it until fin'ly Mr. Robert takes notice.

"Yes, yes!" says the boss. "We'll attend to that, old man. But you