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Updated: May 18, 2025
But Steve Marcum, going to search for Isom's body next day, gave old Gabe another theory. He told the miller how Daddy Marcum had called Isom a coward, and Steve said the boy had gone ahead to prove he was no coward. "He had mighty leetle call to prove it to me. Think o' his takin' ole Brayton all by hisself!" he said, with a look at the yellow, heaving Cumberland.
The bag of money which had been found with Isom's body had been introduced by the state for identification by Sol. Hammer took up the matter with a sudden turn toward sharpness and belligerency. "You say that this is the same sack of money that was there on the floor with Isom Chase's body when you entered the room?" he asked. "That's it," nodded Sol.
A steep path, dangerous even by day, ran snakelike from the cabin down to the water's edge. It was called Isom's path after that tragic night. No mountaineer went down it thereafter without a firm faith that only by the direct help of Heaven could the boy, in his flight down through the dark, have reached the river and the other side alive.
Clarkson that he was hidden and fed right in the house, for it would have made it bad for the other negroes who were house servants, among whom he had a brother and sister. Mr. Clarkson. "Isom, did you get with some other runaways?" "Yes, sir," said Isom. Of course Isom's answer was in keeping with the belief of Mr. Clarkson that he had got in with some experienced runaway in the woods.
Bill was a little assured by his prisoner's evident sincerity. Another consultation brought them to the agreement that the best they could do, in the absence of handcuffs, was to hitch up to Isom's buggy and make the prisoner drive. With hands employed on the lines, he could be watched narrowly by Bill who was to take Sol's old navy six along in his mighty hand. Mrs.
"But I can't say, Missis Newbolt, that everybody's just azackly well," said he. "Some of your folks?" "No, not none of mine," said Sol. "Then whose?" she inquired impatiently. "Isom's," said he. "You don't mean my Joe?" she asked slowly, a shadow of pain drawing her face. "I mean Isom," said Sol. "Isom?" said she, relieved. "Why didn't Joe come after me?"
"He's so grand, and good, and I love him, Joe oh, Joe, I love him!" "It's wrong for you to say that!" Joe harshly reproved her. "I don't want to hear you say that; you're Isom's wife." "Yes, God help me," said she. "You could be worse off than you are, Ollie; as it is you've got a name!" "What's a name when you despise it?" said she bitterly.
"No, I'm not religious." "Well, you read the Bible all the time." "Oh, well!" said he, stooping as if to lift his pails. "Why?" she wanted to know. Joe straightened his long back without his pails. Beyond the orchard the hogs were clamoring shrilly for their morning draught; from the barn there came the sound of Isom's voice, speaking harshly to the beasts.
Newbolt cut across fields, arriving at the Chase farm almost as soon as Sol Greening did on his strawberry roan. The coroner had not come when she got there; Bill Frost allowed Joe to come down to the unused parlor of old Isom's house to talk with her. Frost showed a disposition to linger within the room and hear what was said, but she pushed him out.
"Look after the chickens and things, Mother," said he, "and I'll be out of here in two weeks to help you along. There's ten dollars coming to you from Isom's; you collect that and buy yourself some things." He told her of the order that he had given Hammer for the retaining fee, and asked her to take it up.
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