"Lucky dog," he said. "When I was young I did the like. I love food.
You need never fear any rough stuff in business as long as you can
eat beef and drink beer. But nowadays, I don't go into the rough
stuff--too old and fat."
"Of course not, sir. You've done your bit. Nobody on your side has
been at closer quarters with the big crooks, or heard their guns
oftener."
"That's true."
Mr. Ganns held up his left hand, which was deformed and had lost the
third and little finger.
"The last shot that Billy Benyon ever fired. A great man--Billy.
I'll never see his like again."
"The Boston murderer? A genius!"
"He was. A marvellous brain. When I sent him to the chair it was
like a Bushman killing an elephant."
"You're sorry for the under dog sometimes, I expect?"
"Not always; but now and again I like the bull to get the toreador,
and the savage to eat the missionary."
They entered the smoking-room presently and then Brendon, very much
to his surprise, heard an astonishing lecture which left him under
the emotions of a fourth-form schoolboy after an interview with his
head master.
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