"I tell you what it is," he said, quietly and respectfully, addressing himself especially to Richard, "I like the way you two work together, and I should be glad if you would let me go mates with you."
Both matter and manner were mollifying to Richard. They were eminently respectful, as if Honest Steve knew and admitted Richard's superiority. He took the Welshman aside, and said,
"Well, Tom, what do you think?"
"I don't like him," Tom said.
It is a singular proof of the contrariety of human nature, that no sooner did the Welshman say he did not like Honest Steve than Richard's dislike began to melt away.
"I did not know you were prejudiced, Tom," he said.
"I'm not prejudiced, but there is something about him that tells me not to mate with him."
"What is it?"
"I can't say. It is beyond me. The people round about where I was born and bred are a little superstitious."
"That's it! Superstition is always unreasonable. Look here, Tom. The claim we hold is a duffer, isn't it?"