“That’s so,” thought David, running his eyes over his brother’s stalwart figure; “but I guess it will stay there.”

“We can make them fifty dollars easy, if we pull together; but you can’t make ’em by yourself, an’ you shan’t, nuther.  You hear me?”

As Dan said this he disappeared around the corner of the cabin, leaving his brother standing silent and thoughtful.  He came out again in a few minutes with his rifle on his shoulder, and without saying another word to David or even looking toward him, climbed over the fence and went into the woods.  When he was out of sight, David sat down on one of his traps and went off into a brown study.  He was in a bad scrape, that was plain; and the longer he thought about it, the darker the prospect seemed to grow.  He had his choice between two courses of action:  he must either take Dan into partnership, divide the money with him when it was earned, and permit himself to be browbeaten and driven about as if he were little better than a dog; or he must make an enemy of him by asserting his rights.  Which of the two was the more disagreeable and likely to lead to the most unpleasant consequences, he could not determine.  If Dan were accepted as a partner, he would insist on handling all the money, and in that case Mrs. Evans would probably see not a single cent of it; for Dan did not care who suffered so long as his own wishes were gratified.  If he stuck to the resolution he had already formed, and went ahead on his own responsibility, Dan would smash his traps whenever he happened to find them (he was always roaming about in the woods, and there was hardly a square rod of ground in the neighborhood that he did not pass over in the course of a week), and liberate or wring the necks of the birds that might chance to be in them.  He never could capture so many quails if Dan was resolved to work against him, and neither could he make his enterprise successful if he allowed him an interest in it.  David did not know what to do.

“I might as well give it up,” said he to himself, after a few minutes’ reflection.  “I’ll go up and tell Don that I can’t fill the order; and while I am about it, I might as well ask him for that money.  Perhaps, if I pay father’s debt, Silas Jones will give us what we need until I can find something to do.”

With this thought in his mind, David arose and went into the cabin.  He put on the tattered garment he called a coat, exchanged his dilapidated hat for another that had not seen quite so hard service, and bent his steps toward General Gordon’s house.  While he was hurrying along, thinking about his troubles and the coming interview with Don Gordon, and wondering how he could word his request so that his friend would not feel hard toward him for asking for his money before it had been earned, he was almost ridden down by a horseman, who came galloping furiously along the road, and who was close upon him before David knew there was any one near.