"If a man has two brothers, and one of them goes back on him, is that any reason why the other should go back on him?" asked the dissatisfied one with more coolness and dignity than he had before exhibited.
Mrs. Amelia, years before, had tried to reform his language, picked up in the taverns and among coarse associates, and she had succeeded to some extent. He could talk with a fair degree of correctness; but he had two methods of expression, one of which he called his "Sunday lingo," used on state occasions, and his ordinary speech at home and among his chosen associates, enlarged by the addition of some Southern words and phrases. He began his argument in his best style, though he had never been able to banish his use of the milder slang.
"Decidedly not," replied Noah very promptly. "On the contrary, he ought to stand by the brother if he has been wronged."
"That is just exactly what you have not done, Noah Lyon!" exclaimed Titus, springing from his seat again. "And Nathan said unto David, 'Thou art the man!'"
"Which means that I am the man," answered Noah, his smile becoming almost a laugh. "I didn't know, Brother Titus, that I was the David, and I must ask you to explain."
"Dunk went back on me," continued the malcontent, recalling the name by which the colonel was known on the farm in his boyhood.
"I was not aware that Dunk did any such a thing. I suppose you mean in his will."
"That is just what I mean!" stormed Titus. "He gave you ten thousand dollars more than he gave me; and that was not fair or right."
"But the will explains why he did so."
"On account of fetching up them two children! I wouldn't have brought in any bill for taking care of my dead brother's children. I ain't one of them sort!" protested Titus.