"Then you'll do it on your own hook. I won't be part or parcel of it."
"Who asked you to?" he wanted to know. And we didn't speak again for the rest of that day. It made me feel bad, because he and I had been mighty friendly, as well as partners together. The only comfort I got out of it was that, judgin' by the way he kept from lookin' at me or speakin', he didn't feel any too good himself.
But that evenin' Ratty drifted in and the pair of 'em had another confab. And next day, after the mail had gone, Jacobs got me alone and says he:
"Well," he says, "I think I ought to tell you that I've written that nephew in Wareham and made an offer on the Watson property. I did it on my own responsibility and I'll pay the freight. But I thought perhaps I ought to tell you."
"What did you offer?" I asked. He told me.
"I'll take half," says I, "because I consider it a good investment at that figger. But only with the agreement that the billiard saloon sha'n't go there."
"Then you can keep your money," he says, short. And there was another long spell of not speakin' between the two of us.
Mary noticed that there was somethin' wrong, and it worried her. She spoke to me about it.
"Cap'n Zeb," she says, "what's the trouble between you and Mr. Jacobs? Of course it isn't my business, and you mustn't tell me unless you wish to."
I thought it over. "Well," says I, "I can't tell you just now, Mary. It's a business matter we don't agree on and it's kind of private. I'll tell you some day, but just now I can't. It ain't all my secret, you see."