"Oh, I don't know, Jeff-Jack. It's mighty dark for us all ahead." The Major sighed with the air of being himself a large part of the fallen Confederacy.
"Law, Major, we've got stuff enough left to make a country of yet!"
"If they'll let us, Jeff-Jack. If they'll only let us; but will they?"
"Why, yes. They've shown their hand."
"You mean in this proclamation?"
"Yes, sir. Major, 'we-uns' can take that trick."
The two friends, so apart in years, exchanged a confidential smile. "Can we?" asked the senior.
"Can't we?" The young soldier walked on for several steps before he added, musingly, and with a cynical smile, "I've got neither land, money, nor education, but I'll help you put Rosemont on her feet again—just to sort o' open the game."
The Major gathered himself, exaltedly. "Jeff-Jack, if you will, I'll pledge you, here, that Rosemont shall make your interest her watchword so long as her interests are mine." The patriot turned his eyes to show Jeff-Jack their moisture.
The young man's smile went down at the corners, satirically, as he said, "That's all right," and they trudged on through the white dust and heat, looking at something in front of them.