“Come and work with me. We will grow cotton. Everyone says there will be war in Europe soon. The cotton market will be high. We Punjabis know how to grow it. You will have too much, Ram! Too much money to send to your uncle, you will have to spend some here just for entertainment! At home, everyone will be celebrating your name and honoring you.”

Ram felt a constriction in his chest. His wound began to burn. He had not earned much in the fifteen months he had been in Hambelton. And he dreaded going back. But to farm again, to earn enough money for his uncle to purchase land, how many harvests would that take? How long until he saw Padma and his son? “I want to go home in two years, bhai,” he said. “That is my only wish.”

“Yes, yes, you go home in two years.” Karak nodded. “Well, make it three,” he said. “We will take a three-year lease from Eggenberger.” Karak picked up a stone and threw it a distance, fast and hard. It bounced in the dirt near the shack. “You wanted to return in two years when you arrived. It has already been more than a year.”

Ram felt like a boy. He could not disagree.

“Make a good profit here and go home. Two years, three years, whatever you wish. The arrangement would be the same as Jivan’s—Eggenberger gets one-third profit. We will work the land together, rent mules when we need, hire the people to cultivate and harvest. I will take half of the crop. The rest is yours.”

“You take half the crop?” Ram was not sure that he heard correctly.

“I am putting the seed—”

“Half?” He did not want to farm again, but still, the word stung.

“I pay for the rental of mules and equipment—that is fair. You would get the remainder, bhai,” he said, turning toward Ram. “I said it already, didn’t I? Far more than two dollars a day?”

Ram’s cheeks grew hot. He stared at the outline of the far hills, trying to swallow the anger. Half? He had come to Karak seeking refuge, wanting to confide what had happened in Hambelton. He had hoped the man would lend him money for passage home. Even without knowing all this, Karak had betrayed him.

“You have experienced a huge shock,” Karak whispered, his eyes traveling to Ram’s chest. Ram felt the gash burn again, as if Karak’s gaze had caused it. “Don’t take any hasty decisions now. And you are young. You may not realize the opportunity I am giving.”

Ram snorted; he could not help it. “I will think about it,” he said, and would not allow himself to say more, because his anger would be fully revealed.

“Of course you must look at the matter yourself. You must not trust me only because I am ten years senior to you.”