"Grandfather tried to rise up and failed. Father had his hope, but it was killed; I strove, Sandy, I sho' did, God knows! but you see how it has been with me. There's no use, son, we-all is damned!"
"I am—going to succeed!"
Sandy's voice struck through the gloom and stillness like a tangible blow. Martin started and gave a nervous laugh.
"Come home!" he said; "come home and bring your money with you. It will buy peace and pardon—them's better than any fool idees. And just remember this, Sandy Morley, we-all may be dastards and hard drinkers and what not, but we sho' don't desert women and children. They, down there, belong to us, son, and I expect you and me belong to them!"
Martin rose hurriedly and dropped the whip in the underbrush.
"Come on home, son!"
But Sandy did not move.
"It's come with me or I go alone, Dad."
The child was master of the man!
"You mean it? You mean you dare to disobey—me?"