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"I guess Peg-leg must 'a' begun to lay it out by then that I held a straight flush to his ace high, for he sits down on the edge of the sidewalk an', being some winded, too, he just glares. You! he goes on, tremendous disgustful. 'You! an' them one-lungers a-swearin' an' a-cussin' an' bedamnin' an' bedevilin' one a-other. I'm fair sick o' my job, he remarks, goin' kind o' thoughtful.
Ben Blair had seen many a human derelict on the frontier; the country was full of them, adventurers, searchers after lost health popularly denominated "one-lungers" soldiers of fortune; but he had never known such a class as this man represented, useless cumberers of the earth, wanderers by day, sleepers on the benches of public parks by night.
"An' Clarence pipes up coughin' all the time: "'Mine's a hundred 'n one 'n 'alf. "An', no one havin' a higher tempriture than that, Clarence captures the pot. It was a queer kind o' game. "Well, on that particular Sunday morning they's some unpleasantness along o' one o' the other one-lungers layin' it out as how Clarence had done some monkey-business to make his tempriture so high.
"All the really nice people are 'one-lungers." "Isn't it sad?" said Ward, gravely. "However, Miss Lambert is only partly right. I made my health an excuse. I'm here because I like it." Serviss bent a keen look upon him. "You don't look as if you had ever been sick." "I'm not. I came out here to escape college and my father's business." He laughed. "But don't betray me.
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