Take your stuff and get out.

I hope you didn’t lose your temper, Henry.

“Your mother wants you to come and see her,” the doctor said.

If you think the logs are stolen, take your stuff and get out.

If you call me Doc once again, I’ll knock your eye teeth down your throat.

“If you think the logs are stolen, leave them alone and take your tools back to the camp,” the doctor said.

His family were enormously wealthy⁠—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach⁠—but now he’d left Chicago and come East in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance, he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest.