Mother looked at me. “I think, perhaps, you should accept, Roscoe,” she said, slowly.
“Accept! Mother!”
“Yes. I—I think you should. I am sure everyone else would think so. I should not wish you to do so if Mr. Colton was merely trying to be kind, to help you from motives of gratitude, or charity—”
“Don't use that word, please,” snapped “Big Jim.” “When I lose my mind I may take to charity, but not before. Charity! Good Lord!”
“But it is not charity. I am better, Roscoe; I realize it every day; and with Dorinda I shall get on perfectly well. I have been thinking of something like this for a long time. You owe it to yourself, Roscoe. The chance is one that many men would be very, very glad to have come their way. I shall not urge you, Boy. You must decide for yourself, and I know you will; but, Roscoe, I shall be quite contented—yes, glad and proud, if you say yes to Mr. Colton.”
The gentleman named nodded emphatic approval. “That's the talk!” he exclaimed. “Mrs. Paine, I congratulate you on your common-sense.”
“I think, like you, that you will have made a good investment, Mr. Colton,” was Mother's answer.
I rose to my feet. This must be ended now, for all time.
“I thank you, Mr. Colton,” I said, though not as steadily as I could have wished. “I am greatly obliged to you and I realize that you offer me an exceptional opportunity, or what would be one for another man. But I cannot accept.”
“Look here, Paine! I'll speak plainer still. I understand that that Shore Lane trade of ours has become common property, or, at any rate, it will be common property soon. If I see the situation clearly, Denboro is likely to be a rather unpleasant place for you. That fellow Dean has a lot of influence here—heaven knows why!—and he hates me worse than Old Nick hates holy water. Oh, I know you're not afraid of him! But what is the use of taking the rough road when the smooth one is right before your feet? Say yes, and let's end it.”