“Let’s see: you asked me before, didn’t you?” said Esau, coolly.
“You know I did.”
“Well, then, don’t ask no questions, and nobody won’t tell you no lies.”
“Then it was you,” I cried; “and it was a mean, cowardly, cruel trick to let me be suspected and treated as I have been here. I have always been fair and open with you.”
Esau whistled again in a low soft way, giving me a sidelong glance again, and then taking out his great knife and making a pretence of cutting his nails, for which task the knife was about as suitable as a billhook.
“Are you going to own it?”
No answer.
“Are you going to own to it?” I said, more loudly.
“No, I ain’t,” he cried, angrily, “and I don’t want to be bothered about it no more. Wish I’d gone after the gold myself. I could ha’ made mother rich and comfortable all her life. What business had he to interfere and keep it all from us? Meant to have the place to himself, and now somebody else has got it, and serve him right.”
I turned away from him angrily, but I was too much worried to be able to do without advice, and I walked back to where he was still chopping at his nails.