“Yonder tall fellow?” nodding in the direction of the Californian.
“Yes.”
Basil grinned. “You must have had right smart faith,” he said. “I should judge you'd have thought twice before trusting yourself to him.”
“We did.” said Stephen. “It was then I thought of you.”
“Well, if he drops off, I reckon I can fill his shoes.”
“God forbid that he should drop off!” cried Stephen quickly. “I want to see him successful. He's a tragic and pathetic figure, with his hope and patience.”
Basil stared at him blankly, “Oh! I reckon he'll pull through,” he said at length.
They were soon absorbed in the discussion of their plans. They kept nothing back from the fur trader, for was he not a Landray? They told him how much was invested in the enterprise, what had been spent in equipment, and what, remained in cash in hand, which they intended to invest when they should reach California, together with five thousand dollars of their own. His dark eyes sparkled, and the enthusiasm which worked up out of the sullen depths of his nature quite mastered him. He felt his heart warm toward these prosperous kinsmen of his.
“Well, freeze on to your money,” then he laughed as he added, “I didn't know any of the Landrays could round up so much. I suppose you sold clean out to do it?”
“Not quite,” said Bushrod a little stiffly, and he glanced quickly at his brother; but Stephen avoided meeting his eye, for somehow he felt responsible for Basil, and Basil, he feared, was not quite all he had expected.