"We can make them fifty dollars easy, if we pull together; but you
can't make 'em by yourself, an' you shan't, nuther. You hear me?"

As Dan said this he disappeared around the corner of the cabin,
leaving his brother standing silent and thoughtful. He came out again
in a few minutes with his rifle on his shoulder, and without saying
another word to David or even looking toward him, climbed over the
fence and went into the woods. When he was out of sight, David sat
down on one of his traps and went off into a brown study. He was in a
bad scrape, that was plain; and the longer he thought about it, the
darker the prospect seemed to grow. He had his choice between two
courses of action: he must either take Dan into partnership, divide
the money with him when it was earned, and permit himself to be
browbeaten and driven about as if he were little better than a dog;
or he must make an enemy of him by asserting his rights. Which of the
two was the more disagreeable and likely to lead to the most
unpleasant consequences, he could not determine. If Dan were accepted
as a partner, he would insist on handling all the money, and in that
case Mrs. Evans would probably see not a single cent of it; for Dan
did not care who suffered so long as his own wishes were gratified.
If he stuck to the resolution he had already formed, and went ahead
on his own responsibility, Dan would smash his traps whenever he
happened to find them (he was always roaming about in the woods, and
there was hardly a square rod of ground in the neighborhood that he
did not pass over in the course of a week), and liberate or wring the
necks of the birds that might chance to be in them. He never could
capture so many quails if Dan was resolved to work against him, and
neither could he make his enterprise successful if he allowed him an
interest in it. David did not know what to do.