“He cheated father, you may depend,” said Matt, hotly.
“I wouldn’t go as fur nor thet,” said Abner. “It ain’t right to call a man a thief without proof. Anyway, I’ve got to stump up. I shouldn’t ha’ minded it in an ornery way, though I hev got two babies, bless their souls. But it comes hard jest now, with five extra mouths to feed.”
“Oh, but you are not going to feed them!”
“Who, then?”
“Me, of course.”
“Nonsense, nonsense, Matt!” said Abner. “You’ve got to go to London an’ larn paintin’. Harriet’s told me all ’bout you, an’ she’s got some o’ your picters, an’ they’re rael beautiful. There’s one in our bedroom. Besides, they’re all growed up now a’most, an’ they’ll soon be feedin’ theirselves. An’ then, you see, the house itself is your sister’s, not mine.”
“It’s mighty good of you,” said Matt, hoarsely, “but it isn’t fair.”
“No more it was o’ me fightin’ you thet thar time,” said Abner, smiling. “This evens things up.”
There was a great lump in Matt’s throat so that he could not speak. He held out his hand mutely, and Abner took it, and they gripped each other so heartily that the tears started to the eyes of both.
“Then thet’s settled,” said Abner, with husky cheeriness.