``Well, I can't make it any plainer,'' Clay replied.``It isn't a question I will ask.But you say you want my advice.Well, my advice to my friend and to a man who is not my friend, differ.
And in this case it depends on whether what that thing--''
Clay kicked the paper which had fallen on the ground--``what that thing says is true.''
The younger man looked at the paper below him and then back at Clay, and sprang to his feet.
``Why, damn you,'' he cried, ``what do you mean?''
He stood above Clay with both arms rigid at his side and his head bent forward.The dawn had just broken, and the two men saw each other in the ghastly gray light of the morning.``If any man,''
cried Stuart thickly, ``dares to say that that blackguardly lie is true I'll kill him.You or any one else.Is that what you mean, damn you? If it is, say so, and I'll break every bone of your body.''
``Well, that's much better,'' growled Clay, sullenly.``The way you went on wishing you were dead and hating yourself made me almost lose faith in mankind.Now you go make that speech to the President, and then find the man who put up those placards, and if you can't find the right man, take any man you meet and make him eat it, paste and all, and beat him to death if he doesn't.
Why, this is no time to whimper--because the world is full of liars.Go out and fight them and show them you are not afraid.
Confound you, you had me so scared there that I almost thrashed you myself.Forgive me, won't you?'' he begged earnestly.
He rose and held out his hand and the other took it, doubtfully.
``It was your own fault, you young idiot,'' protested Clay.
``You told your story the wrong way.Now go home and get some sleep and I'll be back in a few hours to help you.Look!'' he said.He pointed through the trees to the sun that shot up like a red hot disk of heat above the cool green of the mountains.