ROBERT. You know why I didn’t go back, Andy. Pa didn’t like the idea, even if he didn’t say so; and I know he wanted the money to use improving the farm. And besides, I’m not keen on being a student, just because you see me reading books all the time. What I want to do now is keep on moving so that I won’t take root in any one place. ANDREW. Well, the trip you’re leaving on tomorrow will keep you moving all right. (_At this mention of the trip they both fall silent. There is a pause. Finally_ ANDREW _goes on, awkwardly, attempting to speak casually_) Uncle says you’ll be gone three years. ROBERT. About that, he figures. ANDREW. (_moodily_) That’s a long time. ROBERT. Not so long when you come to consider it. You know the _Sunda_ sails around the Horn for Yokohama first, and that’s a long voyage on a sailing ship; and if we go to any of the other places Uncle Dick mentions--India, or Australia, or South Africa, or South America--they’ll be long voyages, too. ANDREW. You can have all those foreign parts for all of me. (_After a pause_) Ma’s going to miss you a lot, Rob. ROBERT. Yes--and I’ll miss her. ANDREW. And Pa ain’t feeling none too happy to have you go--though he’s been trying not to show it. ROBERT. I can see how he feels. ANDREW. And you can bet that I’m not giving any cheers about it. (_He puts one hand on the fence near_ ROBERT). ROBERT. (_putting one hand on top of_ ANDREW’S _with a gesture almost of shyness_) I know that, too, Andy. ANDREW. I’ll miss you as much as anybody, I guess. You see, you and I ain’t like most brothers--always fighting and separated a lot of the time, while we’ve always been together--just the two of us. It’s different with us. That’s why it hits so hard, I guess. ROBERT. (_with feeling_) It’s just as hard for me, Andy--believe that! I hate to leave you and the old folks--but--I feel I’ve got to. There’s something calling me---- (_He points to the horizon_) Oh, I can’t just explain it to you, Andy. ANDREW. No need to, Rob. (_Angry at himself_) Hell! You want to go--that’s all there is to it; and I wouldn’t have you miss this chance for the world. ROBERT. It’s fine of you to feel that way, Andy. ANDREW. Huh! I’d be a nice son-of-a-gun if I didn’t, wouldn’t I? When I know how you need this sea trip to make a new man of you--in the body, I mean--and give you your full health back. ROBERT. (_a trifle impatiently_) All of you seem to keep harping on my health. You were so used to seeing me lying around the house in the old days that you never will get over the notion that I’m a chronic invalid. You don’t realize how I’ve bucked up in the past few years. If I had no other excuse for going on Uncle Dick’s ship but just my health, I’d stay right here and start in plowing.