Asher’s influence had led in Grass River affairs for years. But Darley Champers had the crowd in the hollow of his paw tonight.
“How about Gaines?” he demanded. “You join him on the south. You ought to know some of his notions.”
“Gaines has no land to consider,” Asher said frankly. “He sold it more than a year ago.”
“You mean the Jew foreclosed on the preacher, don’t you?” someone said sarcastically.
“You’ll have to ask the preacher,” Asher replied 201 good-naturedly. “I didn’t understand it so at the time. But as for myself, I’m no boomer. I stand for the prosperity that builds from day to day, and stays built. The values here are in the soil, not in the shining bubbles that glitter and burst on top of it. You’ll have to count me out of your scheme. I’m a farmer still. So I’ll wish you all good luck and good night.”
“Good night, I must go with papa,” Thaine Aydelot said, springing up from his play outside.
“No, you’ve got to stay here. Hold him, Leigh,” Jo Bennington commanded, clutching at Thaine’s arm.
Leigh sat calmly disobedient.
“He’s his papa’s boy, I guess, and he ought to go,” she asserted.
“You meany, meany,” Jo whispered, “I don’t like you.”