Jim demurred, but Ryder led him on to the narrative, and eventually he described his past, and as he talked of the old troubles and tribulations, his former prejudices awoke, and something of the early hatred and disdain. Ryder, quick to detect the effect of the revival of his boyish grievances, kept the young man's thoughts on the more painful features of the story, and worked upon his feelings guilefully probing his soul, finding his weaknesses with an unerring touch, prompted, no doubt, by his knowledge of Richard Done, the man he had been, whose youthful character he found faithfully reflected here.
'You'll come with me?' said Ryder.
'No, I couldn't do it,' answered Jim. 'Your idea of vengeance strikes me only as the dream of a madman.'
'But you'll think it over?'
'You don't suppose a man can get this sort of thing out of his mind in a day.'
'Remember, I bind you to nothing, and there is a big fortune at stake.'
Got by crime.'
'By open, honest daylight robbery.'
Jim looked at his brother with a feeling of despair; he recognised the utter hopelessness of argument based on accepted ideas of right and wrong. In disputing he felt like a child blowing bubbles against a stone wall. Ryder's attitude implied that he had tested everything in the fire of a terrible experience.
'Man, man!' cried Done, 'how can you hope to beat the world?'