"I have no complaint whatever to make, and I am glad the colonel remembered Levi handsomely; he deserved it, for he had always been a useful and faithful overseer," added Noah very decidedly.
"Let that rest," said Titus when he found that he made no headway in the direction he had chosen. "I s'pose you won't agree with me, but I say Dunk ought to have left this place to me instid of you. I was his oldest brother, and I have lived here eight years, and know all about the plantation, while you never saw it till after Dunk was dead."
"I am inclined to think the colonel knew what he was about, and he made his will to suit himself," answered Noah.
"I should think he made it to suit you. Of course I know it's law, but it wa'n't right," growled Titus.
"If you think it was not right, why don't you contest the will, and have it set aside?"
"Don't I say it was law; and I suppose it can't be helped now," and the injured man tried to put on an air of resignation. "But I ain't done."
"I should say you had said enough; for there seems to be no foundation for any of your complaints. I think the colonel meant to be fair and just, and make an equal distribution of his property between you and me. Taking out fifteen thousand dollars he gave to charity and his friends"—
"That was giving away what belonged to you and me," interposed the objector.
"You are as unreasonable as a pig in a cornfield, Brother Titus!" exclaimed Noah, whose abundant patience was on the verge of exhaustion. "Duncan was giving away his own property, and not yours or mine, as you appear to think he was, especially yours; for I believe he did just right. Taking out the fifteen thousand and the ten he paid for the support of the orphans,—which I suppose you mean to have settled up in another way,—there was seventy-five thousand dollars left, which he divided equally among his brothers and the representatives of the one who died over ten years ago. That is according to the valuation annexed to the will."
"It's mighty strange, Noah, that you can't see nothin' when it's p'inted out to you," stormed Titus, his wrath rising to the boiling point at his repeated defeats; for, "though vanquished, he could argue still."