"Hell's a-comin' about that terbaccer up here," said Steve.
"Hell's a-comin' in the mountains if that robber up here at the capital steals the next election for governor," said Jason, and Steve looked up quickly and with some uneasiness. He himself had heard vaguely that somebody, somewhere, and in some way, had robbed his own party of their rights and would go on robbing at the polls, but this new Jason seemed to know all about it, so Steve nodded wisely.
"Yes, my feller."
Through town they drove, and when they started out into the country they met more wagons of tobacco coming in.
"How's the folks in the mountains?"
"About the same as usual," said the boy, "Grandpap's poorly. The war's over just now—folks 'r' busy makin' money. Uncle Arch's still takin' up options. The railroad's comin' up the river"—the lad's face darkened—"an' land's sellin' fer three times as much as you sold me out fer."
Steve's face darkened too, but he was silent.
"Found out yit who killed yo' daddy?"
Jason's answer was short.
"If I had I wouldn't tell you."