"Try!" Nap said insistently.
But the blue eyes remained wide. "No, old chap. It's too high a price to pay—even for sleep."
"What do you mean?" There was a fierce note in the query, low as it was; it was almost a challenge.
Lucas answered it very quietly. "I mean that I'm afraid of you, Boney."
"Skittles!" said Nap.
"Yes, it may seem so to you; but, you see, I know what you are trying to do."
"What am I trying to do?" demanded Nap.
Lucas paused for a moment; he was looking straight up into the harsh face above his own. Then, "I know you," he said. "I know that you'll get the whip hand of me if you can, and you'll clap blinkers on me and drive me according to your own judgment. I never had much faith in your judgment, Boney. And it is not my intention to be driven by you."
There was no resentment in the tired voice, only unflagging determination.
Nap's hold slowly relaxed. "You don't trust me then?"