I struck the match.
"I do," said Wright.
I studied him with apparent amusement.

It had taken only one glance around for me to divine that Sampson would enjoy any kind of a clash between Wright and me.

"Huh! You fired me once before an' it didn't go, Wright.

I reckon you don't stack up here as strong as you think." He was facing the porch, moody, preoccupied, somber, all the time.

Only a little of his mind was concerned with me.