Lon. I may as wall take these papers along with me. [Picks up the newspapers.]
[Seth moves to the table. Begins to fill his pipe. Lon takes his corncob from his pocket and coughs. Seth looks at Lon, meditates, then speaks.]
Seth. Heve a smoke, Lon?
Lon. Maybe I will.
[Lon fills his pipe.—Seth strikes a match, lights his own pipe first, then hands the match to Lon.]
Seth. We're brothers.
Lon. The same flesh an' blood has got t' treat each other right.
[Lon starts to put Seth's tobacco-pouch in his pocket, but Seth stops him.]
Seth. An' we wouldn't be treatin' each other right if we let Pa's property come into Ma's hands.
[Seth carries the kerosene, Lon the papers. They go out the back door and disappear. Thus, in disgust and rage, the brothers are united. Then Seth's voice is heard.]