Though Justin did not retreat from his declaration that it was a thing he should not consider, they observed that he did not say he would not consider it. The stirrings of ambition, the flattery of their words, and the gratifying discovery that the world regarded him now as a full-grown man, kept him from saying that.
Just beyond the town, as he proceeded homeward, he was overtaken by Ben Davison, who had ridden hard after him on his pony. Ben’s face was white, his eyes unnaturally bright, and his hand shook on his bridle-rein.
“I’ve been hearing that talk in town,” he began, “and I want to know about it!”
Justin felt the hot blood sing in his ears. With difficulty he crowded down the violent temper that leaped for utterance.
“What did you hear?” he asked.
“That you intend to run against me.”
Justin gave him a look that made the shining eyes shift and turn away.
“Some of the farmers, and others, want you to run,” said Ben.
“Yes, that is true.”
“And do you intend to?”