“It’s just as well not to go up to the Winwoods’ until we’ve finished this,” he said, parenthetically. “And to tell you the truth, Thorny, it’s a queer business for me to be about, after I’ve been hard at work for so long, scraping together what I’ve got. I shouldn’t much like people to know about it, I can tell you; and I never would do it for any man but you.”
Formerly, Silverthorn had been used to this sort of bluntness, but now it irritated him.
“Do you mean to say,” he asked, “that you would break your bargain, if it had been made with any one besides me?”
Vibbard drew himself up proudly.
“No, sir!” he declared, in a cold tone. “I keep my word whenever I have given it.”
Silverthorn uttered an oath under his breath.
“If you mean to keep your word, why don’t you do it without blustering? Suppose I have been unfortunate enough to come out behind in the race, and to need this money of yours? Is that any reason why you should grind into me like a file the sense of my obligation to you?”
“Come, Thorny,” said his friend, “you are treating me like a stranger. How long is it since you got these high-strung notions?”
“I suppose I’ve been growing sensitive since I first perceived that I was dependent on your fortune. It has unmanned me. I believe I might have done something, but for this.”
“Gad, so might I be doing something, now, if I had my whole capital,” muttered Vibbard.