"What's the joke? You don't mean that with all this fuss over his sister's coming back he's picked out a Holton to offer a job to!" "That's what's happened. They want Perry--his farmer--to take a teaching place at the agricultural school. It's a fine chance for him, and Mr. Montgomery has released him from his contract. Perry recommended me, and Mr. Montgomery asked me to the house a few evenings ago to talk it over. The arrangement includes my own farm, too, which Kirkwood holds as trustee until the Sycamore business is straightened out." Charles backed away and stared at his brother scornfully. "You idiot! don't you see what they're doing? They're buying you body and soul. They want to get you on their side--don't you see it?--to use against Uncle Will and me. Well! of all the smooth, cold-blooded, calculating scoundrels I ever heard of, they are the beatingest. Of course you _saw_ it; you haven't walked into the trap!" "I've accepted the position." "You blundering fool, you can't accept it! I won't let you accept it!" "I'm moving my traps to the Montgomery farmhouse to-morrow, so you'll have to call out the troops if you stop me." "Well, of all the damned fools!" Then after a turn across the room he flashed round at his brother. "Look here, Fred; I see your game. You want to marry that girl. Well, you can't do that either!" "All right, Charlie. Suppose you write out a list of the various things I can't do so I won't miss any of them. You haven't any sense of humor or you wouldn't talk about Phil marrying me. Phil's not likely to marry a clodhopper, her uncle's hired hand." "Don't be an ass, Fred. Phil's a fine girl; she's a wonder." "I suppose," said Fred deliberately, "that if you wanted to marry Phil Kirkwood yourself there would be no disloyalty to our family in that. It would be perfectly proper; quite the right thing." "I didn't say I wanted to marry her," jerked Charles. He was pacing the floor with bent head. His brother's equanimity irritated him and intensified his anger. He struck his hands together suddenly as though emphasizing a resolution, and arrested Fred, who had knocked the ashes from his pipe and was walking slowly toward the door. "I say, Fred, I didn't mean to flare up that way, but all this Sycamore business has got on my nerves. Sit down a minute. Uncle Will's in a terrible funk. Plumb scared to death. And just between you and me he's got a right to be." He crossed to the door, opened it and peered into the hall. Fred balanced himself on the footboard of the bed, and watched his brother expectantly. Earlier in the interview Charles had begun to say something as to their father's affairs, but had failed to reach the point, either by design or through the chance drift of their talk. Charles was deeply worried; that was clear; and Fred resolved to give him time to swing back to the original starting-point. "I'm sorry if Uncle Will's in trouble," he remarked.