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An' it's no merely 'at ye ha'e the means, but there's no anither that has the richt; for they're yer ain fowk, 'at ye gaither rent frae, an 'at's been for mony a generation sattlet upo' yer lan' though for the maitter o' the lan', they ha'e had little mair o' that than the birds o' the rock ha'e ohn feued an' them honest fowks wi' wives an' sowls o' their ain!
Gaither has got his suspicions. No doubt he has got his suspicions, Sister Jane." "Ichabod," said Miss Jane, scratching her head with the long teeth of her tucking-comb, "you're too old to be made a tool of. Let old Bradley Gaither do his own buyin' and sellin'. That old scamp is deep as a well.
After a copious use of camphor, Miss Jane fixed Rose comfortably on the lounge, and the girl lay there and gazed at the ceiling, the picture of wide-eyed despair. Bradley Gaither paced the room like one distracted. His sighs were heart-rending. When Miss Jane succeeded in getting him out of the room, he paced up and down the entry, moving his lips and groaning as though in great mental agony.
Here was Billy, rich and healthy, Jack at college, and ever'thing a-runnin' slick and smooth, when nothin' must do but the old creetur must take to the jug, and it's gone on and gone on, till old Bradley Gaither owns in-about all the Carew plantation that's wuth ownin'. Maybe it was Billy's wife druv him to it, Sister Jane." "I say the word!" exclaimed Miss Jane, scornfully, "I say the word!
Gaither that his suspicions had been fathered by his prejudices; but that injured individual merely smiled his cold little smile, and declared that there could be no harm in following the wagon tracks. This was reasonable enough; and the result was that not only was the cotton found, but the wagon standing under the shelter, and two mules at the trough in the lot showed signs of having been used.
He could forget that Rose Gaither was the daughter of the man to whom he attributed his troubles, but he could never forget that he himself was the son of a man whose weakness had found him out at an age when manhood ought to have made him strong. Still, Jack Carew made the most of a bad situation. He had the courage, the endurance, and the hopefulness of youth.
They said nothing; but each one, with the exception of Bradley Gaither, fell into a state of mental confusion akin to awe. When Bradley Gaither, with cm. air of triumph, asked them if they were satisfied, they said nothing, but turned and walked away one after the other.
Squire Inchly spoke seriously, as became a magistrate. Bradley Gaither's thin lips grew thinner as he smiled. "I'm as serious as the thieves that stole my cotton, Squire Inchly," said Bradley Gaither. "Two whole bales of cotton in these days is a heavy loss," said the Squire, reflectively. "I hope you'll ketch the inconsiderate parties to the larceny."
What shall I do?" He was pale as death, and his features worked convulsively. "Do nothin', Mr. Gaither. You've done more 'n you can undo a'ready. You've took and give that poor boy over for to be persecuted, Mr. Gaither, and now the innocent suffers and the wicked goes scotch-free." Bradley Gaither covered his face with his hands and groaned aloud. "What have I done? What have I done?" he cried.
He overworked and underfed his negroes in order that he might buy more land. Day and night he toiled, and planned, and pinched himself and the people around him to gratify his land-hunger. Bradley Gaither had one redeeming feature, his daughter Rose. For the sake of this daughter Pinetueky was willing to forgive him a great many things.
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