“You had better explain your position to my brother, sir,” said Brace quietly; “that is all that I can say.”
“That means your brother won’t come unless he can boss the whole show.”
“Yes, that’s it,” said Brace, laughing. “It’s a way we English have.”
“That’s true, but then, you see, we Amurricans have got the old AS blood in us.”
“AS—Anglo-Saxon?” said Brace.
“That’s the stuff; sir, and all the best of the British race in us along with our own qualities. It came out over the row with George Three, and it’s come out more and more ever since. We like to boss the whole show too, and we do it.”
“Or try to.”
“Yes, and try wins, squire. But look here, I suppose you’re right. That’s what your brother will say. He has made his plans and he don’t want any Yankee meddling in them, eh?”
“Well! But I believe he will put it in a more gentlemanly way.”
“Fine words won’t better it, squire, and the disappointment will be as hard as ever. Look here: I want to go, and I’ll pitch over the Orinoco and make it Amazons and go with you. Now then, what do you say to that?”