"That is different. If Master McCleary or Master Leavitt would lend it to me, taking a mortgage to secure themselves—"
Sewatis pushed his bag toward Walter once more, and when the latter shook his head, as if to refuse the loan, or gift, which ever it might be called, the Indian rose to his feet, pulling his blanket more closely around him.
"What is the matter? Where are you going?"
Sewatis pointed toward the east, and moved slowly away.
"Come back!" Walter cried, entreatingly. "Come back and help me as you did before."
"Build mill?" and the Indian touched the bag of money with his foot.
"Do you mean that you won't stay unless I use that gold?"
Sewatis nodded.
"Suppose I did take it?"
The Indian seated himself as if to show he would remain.