“He’s too busy with his plants, Shaddy; and I ought to be helping him.”
“Then why don’t you go, my lad?”
“How can I, with Joe sitting there looking as if I had offended him for life? I’ll go and shake hands at once.”
“No, you won’t, lad.”
“But I will.”
“He won’t let you.”
“Won’t he?” said Rob firmly. “I’m in the wrong, and I’ll tell him so frankly, and ask him to forgive me.”
“And then he won’t; and, what’s worse, he’ll think you’re afraid of him, because it is his natur’ to.”
“We’ll see,” said Rob; and going round outside the canvas awning by holding on to the iron stretchers and ropes, he reached the spot where Joe sat staring fixedly astern, perfectly conscious of Rob’s presence, but frowning and determined upon a feud.
Rob glanced back, and could see Brazier through the opening in the canvas busily examining his specimens, so as to see if any had grown damp through the rain. Then, feeling that, if he whispered, their conversation would not be heard, Rob began.