Phil Matlack was also affected by the account of the rescue, and he expressed his feelings to Martin.
“He pulled up the stake, did he?” said Phil. “Well, I’ll make him pull up his stakes, and before he goes I’ve a mind to teach him not to meddle with other people’s affairs.”
“If I were you,” said Martin, “I wouldn’t try to teach him anything.”
“You think he is too stupid to learn?” said Matlack, getting more and more angry at the bishop’s impertinent and inexcusable conduct. “Well, I’ve taught stupid people before this.”
“He’s a bigger man than you are,” said Martin.
Matlack withdrew the knife from the loaf of bread he was cutting, and looked at the young man.
“Bigger?” said he, scornfully. “What’s that got to do with it? A load of hay is bigger than a crow-bar, but I guess the crow-bar would get through the hay without much trouble.”
“You’d better talk about a load of rocks,” said Martin. “I don’t think you’d find it easy to get a crow-bar through them.”
Matlack looked up inquiringly. “Has he been thrashing you?” he asked.
“No, he hasn’t,” said Martin, sharply.