There was a slight flush on Uncle Billy's cheek, there was a slight
paleness on Uncle Jim's. He was the first to reply. But he did so with a
certain dignity which neither his partner nor their guest had ever seen
on his face before.
"As it's OUR fire that's warmed ye up like this, Dick Bullen," he said,
slowly rising, with his hand resting on Uncle Billy's shoulder, "and as
it's OUR whiskey that's loosened your tongue, I reckon we must put up
with what ye 'r' saying, just as we've managed to put up with our own
way o' living, and not quo'll with ye under our own roof."
The young fellow saw the change in Uncle Jim's face and quickly extended
his hand, with an apologetic backward shake of his long hair. "Hang
it all, old man," he said, with a laugh of mingled contrition and
amusement, "you mustn't mind what I said just now. I've been so worried
thinking of things about MYSELF, and, maybe, a little about you, that I
quite forgot I hadn't a call to preach to anybody--least of all to you.
So we part friends, Uncle Jim, and you too, Uncle Billy, and you'll
forget what I said. In fact, I don't know why I spoke at all--only I
was passing your claim just now, and wondering how much longer your old
sluice-boxes would hold out, and where in thunder you'd get others when
they caved in! I reckon that sent me off.
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