"
Killen was touched. His lip trembled. "It don't do any good to
talk about things. I guess a fellow has to carry his own griefs.
Nobody else is hunting for a chance to invest in them."
"What's a friend for?" Jeff wanted to know gently.
The little man gulped. "I guess I've got no friends. Anyhow they
don't count when a fellow's in hard luck. It's every man for
himself."
The younger man's smile was warm as summer sunshine. "Wrong guess,
Sam. We're in this little old world to help each other when we
can."
The wretched man drew the back of a trembling hand across his
moist eyes. He inhaled a long sobbing breath and broke into
apology for his weakness. "Haven't slept for a week except from
trional. The back of my head pricks day and night. Can't think of
anything but my troubles."
"Unload them on me," Jeff said lightly.
"It's that mortgage on my mill," Killen blurted out. "It falls due
this month and I can't meet it. Things haven't been going well
with me."
"Can't you get it renewed?"
"Through a dummy Big Tim has bought it up. He won't renew, unless
--" Killen broke off, to continue in a moment: "And that ain't
all. My little girl needs an operation awful badly.
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