"Well, what would you?" Flint flung at him with an air of defiance, which Murray ignored.
"I would make the greatest coup we have attempted."
Flint laughed disagreeably.
"So you said when you arranged to go into New York, but you have carried back no treasure with you."
My uncle regarded him with what, under other circumstances, I should describe as honest indignation.
"You fool!" he said with a rasp in his voice—and I did not wonder that Flint pulled sidewise in his chair as if to avoid a stab. "Did you think I was to go into that huddle of a town, with its wealth in furs and groceries, and fetch out a treasure?"
"What, then?" demanded Flint, moistening his lips.
My uncle leaned forward across the table, lips drawn tight over his teeth. His eyes shot sparks.
"Knowledge, fool! Intelligence! That which wise men labor a lifetime to secure and the ignorant pass by in the gutter."
"It may be knowledge to you," protested Flint childishly; "but how'm I to know of it as never heard it?"