You're with white folks now." Cash sat down on the bench he had made for himself, and stared into the fire.

His whole attitude spelled abstraction; nevertheless he missed no little sound behind him.
He knew that Bud was talking largely for his benefit, and he knew that here was the psychological time for breaking the spell of silence between them.

Yet he let the minutes slip past and would not yield.
The quarrel had been of Bud's making in the first place.

Let Bud do the yielding, make the first step toward amity.
But Bud had other things to occupy him just then.

Having eaten all his small stomach would hold, Lovin Child wanted to get down and explore.
Bud had other ideas, but they did not seem to count for much with Lovin Child, who had an insistent way that was scarcely to be combated or ignored.
"But listen here, Boy!" Bud protested, after he had for the third time prevented Lovin Child from backing off the table.