Bartlett—[Angrily.] I’ve ordered ye not to set foot in this cabin o’ mine. Git below where ye belong. Where’s Sue? I told her to keep ye away.
Nat—She can’t prevent me this time. I’ve made up my mind. Listen, Pa. I’m going away tomorrow.
Bartlett—[Uncertainly.] Goin’ away?
Nat—Yes, and I’m never coming back. I’m going to start a new life. That’s why I want a final talk with you—before I go.
Bartlett—[Dully.] I’ve naught to say to ye.
Nat—You will have. Listen. I’ve absolute proof the Sarah Allen is lost.
Bartlett—[Fiercely.] Ye lie!
Nat—[Curiously.] Why do you say that? You know it’s true. It’s just that you won’t believe.
Bartlett—[Wanderingly—the word heading his mind into another channel.] Believe? Aye, he wouldn’t believe. Brass and junk, he said, not worth a damn—but in the end I made him own up ’twas gold.