“Never said nothing of the sort,” cried Esau, defiantly, and with his face scarlet.
“Your face says you thought so, my lad.”
“Well, a chap can think what he likes, can’t he?”
“No, boy,” said Gunson, and his one eye seemed to blaze; “not of a man who has done nothing but kindness for you ever since we met, even if it was in a rough way.”
“How was I to know you didn’t mean artful, and it was all a trick?” said Esau sourly.
“Ah, how indeed?”
“Everybody out here’s been trying to get the better of us, and rob us. I couldn’t tell you wasn’t one of ’em.”
“Why, you ill-conditioned cub!” cried Gunson, angrily, “you make me feel as if I should like to thrash you till you could not stand.”
“Better not try it,” grumbled Esau; “you go your way, and let us go ours. We told you all about ourselves, and where we were going; but you’ve done nothing but shut yourself up, and look as if you were after no good.”
“Esau!” I cried angrily; “it isn’t fair. Mr Gunson has always been the best of friends to us, and given us good advice.”