around for our traps later. You have been very generous, and I'm
afraid I've shown myself up for an ungrateful ass, if not worse.
Goodby, Sir."

He stands there holdin' out his hand, with the old gent starin' hard at
him and not movin'. Fin'lly Uncle Jeff breaks the spell.

"Well, I'll be hanged!" says he. "Bladen, I didn't think it was in
you. I took you for one of the milksop kind; which shows just how big
a fool an old fool can be. And Edith is right. I'm a crazy,
quarrelsome old wretch. It isn't all rheumatism, either. Some of it
is disposition. And don't you go away thinking I've been generous,
trying to tie you two young people down this way. It was rank
selfishness. But you don't know how hard it comes, being shut up like
this and able only to move around on wheels--after the life I've led
too! I suppose I ought to be satisfied. I've had my share--nearly
thirty years on the go, in jungle, forest, mountains, all over the
globe. I've hunted big game in every--but you know all about that.
And now I suppose I'm worn out, useless. I was trying to get used to
it, and having you young folks around has helped a lot. But it hasn't
been fair to you--not fair."

He sort of chokes up at the end, and his lower lip trembles some; but
only for a second. He straightens up once more in his chair. "You
must try to make allowances, Edith," he goes on. "Don't--don't hate
the old wretch too hard!"

That got to her, all right. She' wa'n't gush all the way through, any
more'n Uncle Jeff was all crust. Next thing he knew she was givin' him
the fond tackle and sobbin' against his vest.