’Jim said nothing to this. At last, throwing away the switch he held in his hand, he said, as if speaking to himself, “I don’t know whether I have the power.” . . . “You don’t know! And you wanted me just now to give up my arms! That’s good, too,” cried Brown; “Suppose they say one thing to you, and do the other thing to me.” He calmed down markedly. “I dare say you have the power, or what’s the meaning of all this talk?” he continued. “What did you come down here for? To pass the time of day?”
’"Very well,” said Jim, lifting his head suddenly after a long silence. “You shall have a clear road or else a clear fight.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
’Brown got up at once, but he did not go up the hill till he had seen Jim disappear between the first houses. He never set his eyes on him again. On his way back he met Cornelius slouching down with his head between his shoulders. He stopped before Brown. “Why didn’t you kill him?” he demanded in a sour, discontented voice. “Because I could do better than that,” Brown said with an amused smile. “Never! never!” protested Cornelius with energy. “Couldn’t. I have lived here for many years.” Brown looked up at him curiously. There were many sides to the life of that place in arms against him; things he would never find out. Cornelius slunk past dejectedly in the direction of the river. He was now leaving his new friends; he accepted the disappointing course of events with a sulky obstinacy which seemed to draw more together his little yellow old face; and as he went down he glanced askant here and there, never giving up his fixed idea.