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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Coom into the muck-hole, then," was his gracious answer; and he led me into a filthy cell, where the miners changed their jackets. "Simon Carfax," I began, with a manner to discourage him; "I fear you are a shallow fellow, and not worth my trouble." "Then don't take it," he replied; "I want no man's trouble."
"Now I have to follow inclinations that have somehow got the better of all the best qualities in me. That's how I'm fixed now. And, queer as it may seem, that's been my salvation if you can call it salvation. When I first came here I was ready to drift any old way. I did drift into every muck-hole that appealed to me. I didn't care. As I said, moral scruples were dead in me.
Ransford gave her no chance to finish what she had to say. "Wot did I tell you?" she cried, with a power of self-righteousness. "Wot did I tell you? You ain't got no right to git a hob-a-nobbin' with sech scum. They're all scallawags, every one of 'em. Men! say, these yer hills is the muck-hole o' creation, an' the men is the muck. I orter know.
Norcross can go." "That won't do," retorted McFarlane, quickly. "That won't do at all. You must go with them. I can take care of myself. I will not have you dragged into this muck-hole. We've got to think quick and act quick. There won't be any delay about their side of the game. I don't think they'll do anything to-day; but you've got to fade out of the valley.
'Coom into the muck-hole, then, was his gracious answer; and he led me into a filthy cell, where the miners changed their jackets. 'Simon Carfax, I began, with a manner to discourage him; 'I fear you are a shallow fellow, and not worth my trouble. 'Then don't take it, he replied; 'I want no man's trouble.
Think, behind their nets and thorns, what wretches women, too, and kids may be crouched down, quaking, sick with terror. Humph! I don't mind saying" for a moment his hand lay on Rudolph's shoulder "that I loathe giving this muck-hole the satisfaction I'd hate to go Out here, that's all." He was spared that inconvenience.
From old man Hardy's slop-chest? Hellbeam makes you work for your money when you're driven to wallowing in a muck-hole like the Lizzie. It isn't worth it. You see, you've run into the worst failure you've made in years. But I only wish you could see the sorry sort of sailorman you look." Standing's right hand was behind him, and Bat heard the key turn in the lock of the door. He waited.
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