"I mean just what I said"—I looked him in the eye—"you are running away before the battle begins."
For a moment I thought I had lost him, and my heart began to sink within me, and then—it was beautiful—he stepped impulsively toward me:
"Well, what do you think I should do, anyway?"
"Nort," I said, "only yesterday you were enthusiastic over the idea of getting the truth about Hempfield, of publishing a really great country newspaper."
"What an ass I was!"
"Wrong!" I said.
"David," he cut in petulantly, "I don't get what you mean."
"I'll tell you, Nort: The greatest joy in this world to a man like you is the joy of new ideas, of wonderful plans—— Now, isn't it?"
"Yes. I certainly thought for a few days last week that I had found the pot at the end of the rainbow."
"It was only the rainbow, Nort: if you want the pot you've got to dig for it."