He thought of the grinning men of the saloon; the hidden words. Somebody
might have gone out and insulted Andy to his face for the first time.
There had been plenty of insults in the past two years, since Andy could
pretend to manhood, but none that might not be overlooked. "Who's been
talkin' to you?" repeated Uncle Jasper. "Confound that Buck Heath! He's
the cause of all the trouble!"

"Buck Heath! Who's he? Oh, I remember. What's he got to do with the
rotten life we lead here, Uncle Jas?"

"So?" said the old man slowly. "He ain't nothin'?"

"Bah!" remarked Andy. "You want me to go out and fight him? I won't. I
got no love for fighting. Makes me sort of sickish."

"Heaven above!" the older man invoked. "Ain't you got shame? My blood in
you, too!"

"Don't talk like that," said Andy with a certain amount of reserve which
was not natural to him. "You bother me. I want a little silence and a
chance to think things out. There's something wrong in the way I've
been living."

"You're the last to find it out."

"If you keep this up I'm going to take a walk so I can have quiet."

"You'll sit there, son, till I'm through with you. Now, Andrew, these
years I've been savin' up for this moment when I was sure that--"