“Case of blood bein’ thicker than water, eh? Oh, I didn’t mean to say that, Lila.”
“But it is true.”
“Yeah, I reckon it is.”
“Do you believe in heredity?” Lila was painfully serious now. It was a question that hurt her to propound.
“Heredity? If yuh mean physical forms, color, disposition—yes. If yuh mean inherited vices, physical failings—no. Horse-stealin’ don’t necessarily run through a family. Preachers’ sons don’t usually make preachers. Blindness ain’t inherited; so why should any other physical ailment be? I knowed two weak little folks up in Montana that raised a heavy-weight fighter. But yuh can make yore own heredity, Lila—most folks do.”
“You mean—thinking about it?” anxiously.
“Thinkin’ the wrong way about it.”
“But—but what if other folks think against you?”
Hashknife laughed softly and shook his head.
“That’s an Injun idea, Lila. Never admit that yore medicine is weaker than that of the other feller. Yore mind is the only one that can hurt you.”