The man on the van unhooked the reins from around his neck and let them fall to the ground. But he still hesitated to climb down.
“I should hate to feel that I was a burden on you,” he faltered. “But if there’s any stutterers around here I might earn a little something on the side to help out on my board.”
“Me with forty thousand in the bank takin’ board money from an old friend, or lettin’ a guest of mine graft for his livin’?” snorted Hiram. “Not by a blame sight! You just shut up and h’ist yourself down here and help me unharness old Polyponeesus.”
Hiram introduced his guest to his brother with curt brevity.
“And I guess I’ll do as you hinted this mornin’ about takin’ the other half of the house, Phin,” he said. “I don’t want any friends of mine to be underfoot for you. As long as you suggested splittin’ off, I’ll do it. Old Aunt What’s-Her-Name can do for both of us.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, Hime,” said the Squire, earnestly. “Your friends are my friends and we can all get along comfortably together just as we are.”
“I’d ruther have the side-show privilege than a share in the big show,” persisted the stubborn relative; “it’s your proposition, and I can take a hint.” The presence of Peak and his mute suggestion of the old associations were already having their effect on Hiram’s undisciplined temperament. He had begun to wonder before this if getting acquainted again with a brother after so many years was altogether a success. He had been a bit ashamed in spite of Phineas’s candid forgiveness; this calm, earnest, educated man made him feel ill at ease. Suddenly, he realised perfectly why he had clutched at this stroller and hauled him into this haven.
Hiram always acted first and reflected afterwards. He knew now that he had seized upon this man to hold him between his brother and himself, as he would have interposed a shield. He had anticipated that his brother would interfere in his resolution to “make Coll Willard curl.” For weeks he had been dreading the hour when Phineas would come to him for an understanding. No man knew better than he what the Look grit was, and as he had fully made up his mind to carry out his plan of vengeance, and realised that the Squire would as vigorously oppose him, he had been trembling each noon and night for many days, as he sat upon the porch and watched the lawyer’s approach.
Now he stood up close beside the amiable giant.
“Sime and me is pretty close chums, Phin,” he said, “and we shall be together all the time talkin’ mighty busy, and it ain’t in no ways right for us to be gabblin’ round where you be and takin’ your mind off’n your business. So I’ll have another cook-stove set up in my part and we won’t trouble you a mite.”