"You are getting old enough to pass from annoyance to insult," the doctor replied.
"Yes," said master, "one is supposed to progress."
"True," replied the doctor, "but premature progress argues premature decay. Kentucky is full of the dusty shells of young hopefuls. Sometimes at nineteen a boy gives promise of becoming a great orator; at twenty-five he is a haggler—at forty, forgotten. I have known it to be the case."
"Yes," said master, leaning heavier upon the table, "some men change while others are always the same—with low instincts and only the sharpness that appears to be the inheritance of the scoundrel."
I stepped forward. Master noticed me and motioned me back to my place. The doctor did not even wince. He sat gazing into the fire. "I came to make you a proposition," said he.
"All right. Let it be a short one."
"It will not take long to state it."
"Longer to get to it, I presume?"
"It's this," said the doctor. "You are going into the law and I have no doubt that you will make your mark. I don't believe that you are ambitious to acquire wealth, but I feel that you would like to hold intact your father's estate. A part of the estate, you must know, will fall to me. I don't suppose there will be money enough to satisfy my claim, without a division of the land, so to avoid this, I will agree to take a small amount in ready money as part payment, and Dan as the remainder."