He glanced at them. They were all regarding him earnestly; one or two, it seemed, almost anxiously.
“Compromise!” he repeated, with incredulous scorn. “Compromise? Make some sort of deal, a half-way trade, with Elisha Cook’s crew? Is that what you mean? When they get one red cent from me they’ll have to take it by main strength. Compromise be hanged! You fight, do you hear? Fight—and lick ’em!”
It was half past eleven when he left the room. He had planned to dine at the Ostable House, and drive home afterward, but dinner would not be ready until twelve. He walked over to the hotel and, because idling and thinking were not cheerful or amusing just then, he decided to fill in the half hour by writing his reply to Seymour Covell’s letter. He did write it, expressing some doubt as to his ability to find a satisfactory position for his friend’s son immediately, but extending a hearty invitation to the latter to visit him at Harniss. He did not, however, follow Esther’s suggestion that that visit be delayed until after her European trip had begun. He saw no reason for such delay. Let the young fellow come at once, if he wanted to. What difference did it make when he came?
“Send the boy along,” he wrote. “The sooner the better. And tell him for me that he can stay as long as he likes. There’s room enough, goodness knows. And the longer he stays the better chance I shall have to look him over and decide what sort of job he will fit into, when he gets ready to take it. Why don’t you come, yourself? A month or so down here in the sand will blow some of that Chicago soot out of your head. I always told you this was the healthiest place on God’s earth. You come and I’ll prove it.”
After dinner, as he brought the span abreast the Ostable post office, he pulled the horses to a halt and handed the letter to a citizen who was standing on the platform.
“Here, mail that for me, will you?” he said. The citizen received the letter as he might have received a commission from the governor.
“Yes, sir; yes, indeed, Cap’n Townsend,” he replied, with unction.
“Much obliged. And mail it right away. Don’t put it in your pocket and forget it.”
“Forget it! I wouldn’t forget it for nothin’. No, sir!”
“Well, it is more than nothing, so I don’t want it forgotten.”