"Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother. He was heartily thankful for it. Before the first month was gone, McClintock admitted that the boy was a find. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. Part 3 At last the evening was over, and Capes and his wife had gone down to see Mr. Coffee à la Turque wasn't so bad; but a guy couldn't soak his breakfast toast in it.
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