“No, Long Orrick, I won’t,” replied the old man with an amount of energy of which he seemed, a few seconds before, quite incapable.
The reply did not seem to please Long Orrick, neither did the steady gaze with which it was accompanied.
“You won’t?” said Orrick between his set teeth.
“No,” replied the old man, dropping his eyes on the little boat and resuming his work.
“Why not,” continued the other after a pause, “you don’t require the hide, why won’t you lend it to a chum as is hard up?”
“Because I won’t encourage smugglin’,” said Jeph. “You’ve smuggled enough in yer young days yerself, you old villain; you might help a friend a bit; it won’t be you as does it.”
“It’s because I have smuggled w’en I was young that I won’t do it now that I’m old, nor help anyone else to,” retorted Jeph; “besides, you’re no friend o’ mine.”
“What if I turn out to be an enemy?” cried Orrick, fiercely; “see here,” said he, drawing out a long knife, and holding it up so that the light of the stove glittered on its keen blade, “what if I give you a taste of this, old man?”
“You won’t,” said Jeph, calmly.
“No! why not?”