Brown promptly,
"but let's look at your part."

"Well," said French, "we will divide up on this thing. I will
undertake to look after the boy's physical and--well--secular
interests, if you like. I will teach him to ride, shoot, box,
and handle the work on the ranch, in short, educate him in
things practical, while you take charge of his moral training."

"In other words, when it comes to morals, you want to shirk."

French flushed quickly, but controlled himself.

"Excuse me, Brown," he said, in a quiet tone. "I came to talk this
over with you as a friend, but if you do not want to--"

"Old man, I apologize for the tone I used just now, but I foresee
that this is going to be serious. I can see as clearly as light
what I ought to say to you now. There is something in my heart
that I have been wanting to say for months, but I hate to say it,
and I won't say it now unless you tell me to."

The two men were standing face to face as if measuring each other's
strength.

"Go on," said French at length; "what are you afraid of?" His tone
was unfortunate.

"Afraid," said Brown quickly, "not of you, but of myself."
He paused a few moments, as if taking counsel with himself, then,
with a sudden resolve, he spoke in tones quiet, deliberate, and
almost stern. "First, be clear about this," he said; "I stand
ready to help you with Kalman to the limit of my power, and to
assure you to the full my share of responsibility for his moral
training. Now then, what of your part in this?"

"Why, I--"

"But wait, hear me out. For good or for evil, you have that boy's
life in your hands. Did you ever notice how he rides,--his style,
I mean? It is yours. How he walks? Like you. His very tricks of
speech are yours. And how else could it be? He adores you, you know
that. He models himself after you. And so, mark me, without either
of you knowing it, _you will make him in spite of yourself and in
spite of him_. And it is your fate to make him after your own type.
Wait, French, let me finish." Brown's easy good nature was gone,
his face was set and stern. "You ask me to teach him morals. The
fact is, we are both teaching him. From whom, do you think, will he
take his lesson? What a ghastly farce the thing is! Listen, while
the teaching goes on. 'Kalman,' I say, 'don't drink whiskey; it is
a beastly and degrading habit.' 'Fudge!' he says, 'Jack drinks
whiskey, and so will I.' 'Kalman,' I urge, 'don't swear.' 'Rot,'
says he, 'Jack swear