Rolling Stones. O. Henry

out of trouble and on its feet; but what could he do for himself? And without any special brains, but with some nerve and common sense, I put him on his feet because I never had the weakness that he did – nothing but a cigar for mine, thanks. And – "

      Trotter paused. I looked at his tattered clothes and at his deeply sunburnt, hard, thoughtful face.

      "Didn't Cartright ever offer to do anything for you?" I asked.

      "Wainwright," corrected Trotter. "Yes, he offered me some pretty good jobs. But I'd have had to leave Aguas Frescas; so I didn't take any of 'em up. Say, I didn't tell you much about that girl – Timotea. We rather hit it off together. She was as good as you find 'em anywhere – Spanish, mostly, with just a twist of lemon-peel on top. What if they did live in a grass hut and went bare-armed?

      "A month ago," went on Trotter, "she went away. I don't know where to. But – "

      "You'd better come back to the States," I insisted. "I can promise you positively that my brother will give you a position in cotton, sugar, or sheetings – I am not certain which."

      "I think she went back with her mother," said Trotter, "to the village in the mountains that they come from. Tell me, what would this job you speak of pay?"