His words suggested an idea to Dan Tussock. “Right you are, boy!” he cried, sitting upright in bed. “A keeper it is that you want. Let us make a partnership of it. I’ve got my hand on one of the biggest things ever swung on this coast. As I told you, I can organise the work and see it through, but sure as fate I go to pieces when the job is done. Dalton, you’re pretty much in the same fix. You hate your work, there’s nothing in it for you, and you’re going to the devil. Here’s Paul, wanting to make twenty-five thousand and needing a start. I can show him twenty-five thousand dollars, and more, if he ties up to me. What do you say? Let’s make a partnership of it.” And with growing enthusiasm he proceeded to expound his scheme. He had just completed a job out of which he had made several thousand dollars, he had that day made his first payment on a purchase of another tract of wild land which he proposed to clear up and sell as city lots. There was big money in it, if properly handled. The city was growing, building sites were badly needed; he knew he could swing the work and push it through, but on the business end he was always falling down. “And worse than that, with money in my pocket I need a keeper. Dalton, you are a lawyer, and I guess you know your job. You look to me like a worker. Can’t do anything with a lazy man, but you’re not lazy. What you want is something worth while to keep you climbing. You’re a fool like me. You need a keeper like me. Here’s Paul, wanting a job. We’ll give him the job.” Dalton sat gloomily smoking. “You’re right, Tussock,” he said. “I need a keeper.” He put his face in his hands and groaned. “I’m a fool. I am worse than a fool, I’m a dead failure.” “See here, Dalton,” said Tussock. “I’m an older man than you. I’ve seen fifty years of life. I never had a friend that didn’t help me down. I’m not saying it wasn’t my own fault, but every friend I have had has helped me down. Dalton, what about you?” Dalton sat thinking, smoking savagely. “A friend?” he said slowly. “There was my mother. But she died. And—” he paused a moment “—there was one other. But I threw her down. Oh, hell and blazes!” he broke forth with a fierceness that startled both his hearers. “What are you talking to me about? Friends? Yes. They were all going the same way, and they all helped me down. No—I helped them down. We went down together. Oh, hell and damnation! Damn all friends! Damn life! Take your damn partnership! It’s all a piece of cursed foolery. I’m through. I’m sick, I’m done with it. I’m going to hell alone.” He rose, kicked back his chair and made for the door.