‘No.’
‘I was hoping you didn’t mean to tie up with this man, Burton—’
‘Oh, no.’
‘And those friends of yours—those cowhands—’
‘I’m planning to be alone for a while.’
Elbert’s answers were automatic. A fight was still on in him, not to divulge about Bob Leadley and the gold mine. It seemed almost that his father had the right to know—but Elbert kept his mouth shut.
Toward the end of dinner the elder man said with a laugh: ‘You’ll be needing some money—’
‘No, I’m all fixed, thanks.’
Elbert couldn’t follow his father’s reaction to that. Mr. Sartwell said nothing, but seemed both glad and sorry at the same time. After that he spoke with even a little more care, not to impose his will. It was like two men talking in a club, about anything in the world, except what each meant to the other.