"I don't know why you should think anything has come over me," was the ungracious answer.
"I think so from your manner. But come, we won't say any more about it. You are tired. So am I, and we'll have a rest-day to-morrow."
"Ralph," said Walter presently, when they had trudged on some distance in silence, "you are a good fellow to put up with me as you do, and I beg your pardon for contradicting you as I did just now. I am very wretched sometimes, if that is any excuse for my ill-temper."
"Don't talk about pardon; there's no occasion for that on either side, I hope," replied Ralph, affectionately. "We know one another too well. But I am sorry to hear you talk of being wretched. To tell the truth, I have been sometimes afraid—lately, I mean—not till lately—that you have had a weight on your mind. I haven't liked to ask you about it."
"Oh, there isn't much the matter that I know of," said the repentant friend; "only I think now and then that I am not cut out for this sort of work."
"Don't say that, Wilson," remonstrated Ralph, earnestly; "because you are, you know. I never knew a fellow like you for taking to anything as you have taken to this line."
"Line of railroad, do you mean, Ralph?"
"No, no, line of life in general; line of business, I should say. You have picked up as much in a year as it took me five to learn. And with our prospects before us—our joint prospect when the partnership begins—who can tell what we may do, or where we shall be in ten years, or less than that?"
"Who indeed?" repeated Walter, with a rather bitter smile and tone of voice.
"To be sure, it is uphill work at present."