"That's all right," he added consolingly. "That's all right, Mard. You 'll like me. Every one does as knows me."
Marden looked at him, where the heavy shoulders bulged beyond the chair-back, and was torn between laughter, scornful silence, and tears. At least he was the master, and he felt thankful, though he had had no doubt at any moment. For a long time he stood watching, while his brother smoked, and spat, and growled snatches of song.
"That's the shotgun I shot the loon with," Lee broke in pensively. "An' that's the Gilderoy a-hangin' there, same as when we was boys, ain't it? A fine ship she must 'a' been, an' a fine man as run her. The' ain't no more ships like her these days. Sawin' 'em off fer coal-barges, they are now. All the ships now's coffins with three sticks in 'em, or little better. Well, say, Mard," emptying his pipe on the stove-lid, "ain't it gettin' round time to eat, huh?"
That was a strange supper the two brothers ate together at the table by the window where Marden and his mother had used to face
