“That is the reason I came to see you, Mr. Wait,” Scott exclaimed quickly. “It seems to me a pity for this feud to continue indefinitely. I heard that you had some influence with your family and I want to see if we can’t figure out some way to bring it to an end.”
Sewall shook his head sadly. “Did you ever see old Jarred Morgan?” he asked hopelessly.
“Yes,” Scott said. “I have met him and I admit that he turned my proposition down cold.”
“That’s the trouble,” Sewall interrupted a little impatiently. “He will never give up. He and that little vixen of a Vic nurse the feud like an only child.”
“That’s true enough,” Scott admitted. “But they are in the minority and I cannot blame them much. I cannot help but admire the old man’s gameness in a way. I thought possibly the larger party could afford to make the overture. You are an educated man, Mr. Wait, and you must see the futility of it.”
“See it? Why, of course, I see it,” Sewall exclaimed bitterly. “I am the only one of the Waits who had the ambition to drag myself out of the Middle Ages in which the rest of them are living, and I’d make them drop that feud to-morrow if I could. Foster is the only one on this side who wants to keep it up. The rest would drop it quick enough if old Jarred would let them, but as long as he holds out, their pride will not let them give it up. And what would be the use of our quitting if Jarred did not?”
“That’s true,” Scott sighed, “but I have not given up hope if you are willing. I want to try again to persuade Jarred.”
“Go to it,” Sewall replied gloomily, “but you will not succeed.”
“Maybe not,” Scott said, “but I want to try. Can I count on you to avoid any new outbreaks while I am trying?”
“There will never be any more outbreaks if I can prevent it, Mr. Burton. And,” he added confidently, “I can prevent it unless Foster runs wild, and I doubt if he has the courage for that.”