human
We want the sailors with us, at any rate--they can row,
gpt
But do we want you? Grimshaw queried gloomily.
human
You take up too much room, for your size, and you're a beast anyway.
gpt
I guess I'll be wanted, the pawnbroker observed, as he jerked open his shirt, tearing out the four buttons in his impetuousness and showing a Colt's .44 automatic, strapped in its holster against the bare skin of his side under his left arm, the butt of the weapon most readily accessible to any hasty dip of his right hand.
human
I guess I'll be wanted. But just the same we can dispense with the undesirables.
gpt
If you will have your will, the wheat-farmer conceded sardonically, although his big hand clenched involuntarily as if throttling a throat.
human
Besides, if we should run short of food you will prove desirable--for the quantity of you, I mean, and not otherwise. Now just who would you consider undesirable?--the black nigger? He ain't got a gun.