"No, by God!—I hain't. The trouble's on me right now. Colonel
Pendleton hain't treated me right—he cheated me out—"
Steve got no further; the boy turned squarely in the buggy and his eyes blazed.
"That's a lie. I don't know anything about it, but I know it's a lie."
Steve, too, turned furious, but he had gone too far, and had counted too much on kinship, so he controlled himself, and with vicious cunning whipped about.
"Well," he said in an injured tone, "I mought be mistaken. We'll see—we'll see."
Jason had not asked about his mother, and he did not ask now, for Steve's manner worried him and made him apprehensive. He answered the man's questions about the mountains shortly, and with diabolical keenness Steve began to probe old wounds.
"I reckon," he said sympathetically, "you hain't found no way yit o' gittin' yo' land back?"
"No."
"Ner who shot yo' pap?"
"No."