Steel watched him with growing disapproval. Under ordinary circumstances he himself might have been tempted to take some of the dead man’s belongings, particularly those moccasins which had caught Miller’s eye. They would, if left, only fall to pieces and rot. But somehow the very eagerness with which the big man had seized upon the property of the dead man created in him a distaste for the proceedings.
He came to dislike Miller in this moment, and inasmuch as he felt this way, he disliked also the man’s actions, disliked the way he fondled those moccasins which the dead man once had worn. Oh, he was probably a fool, no doubt, he reasoned, feeling this way.
He shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing. And if Miller noted the young man’s unspoken distaste, he too said nothing. He suggested finally, though, “Say, ain’t you goin’ to knuckle onto some of this truck? Might as well,” he pointed out.
Steel smiled. Then slowly the smile hardened. “You seem to have taken about everything for yourself,” he said.
Miller snorted. Steel felt like hitting him.
“Well, kid,” the other said, “up in this land, you’ve got to look out for yourself. If you wanted them moccasins, why didn’t you take ’em? Judgin’ by the way you act, you’d done well to brought your nurse along when you come north.”
Steel took a step forward, then swallowed hard and choked down his growing wrath. He said, meeting Miller’s eyes, “I’ll overlook that this time. Next time, be careful though.”
Miller continued to meet the younger man’s eyes for several long seconds in a challenging way. He said truculently, “Well, if you ain’t goin’ to take anythin’, come on! We’ve got to be movin’. Been wastin’ enough time as it is.”
Steel, looking squarely at the other, shook his head. “You can go along if you want to,” he said. “I’m staying here.”
“What?” Miller stared at him.