Bartlett—This be different.
Nat—[With excited indignation.] Yes, this is different! Don’t I know it? Do you think you can hide that from me? It is different, and that’s why I want to go.
Bartlett—Ye can’t, I say.
Nat—[Pleadingly.] But why not, Pa? I’m not a boy. I can do a man’s work on a ship, or anywhere else.
Bartlett—[Roughly.] Let’s have done with talk! Your place is here, with Sue and your Ma, and here you’ll stay.
Nat—[Angrily.] That isn’t any reason. But I know your real one. You’re afraid——
Bartlett—[Half rising to his feet.] Ye say that to me? [Recovering himself with an effort and settling down again.] Keep a clapper on your jaw, boy. That’s talk I’ll not put up with. [With a touch of uneasiness—forcing a scornful laugh.] Afeerd! Afeerd o’ what? Did ye ever know me to be afeerd?
Nat—Afraid of what I know, of what I might find out if I went with you.
Bartlett—[With the same forced, uneasy scorn.] And what d’ye think ye’d find out, Nat?
Nat—First of all that it’s not a trading venture you’re going on. Oh, I’m not a fool! That story is all right to fool the neighbors and girls like Sue. But I know better.