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Brother Japheth's business was concluded, and the architect who was building the latest extension to the pipe-pit floor was heading across the yard to consult the young boss. Pettigrass paused with his foot in the stirrup to say, "Old Tike Bryerson's on the rampage ag'in; folks up at the valley head say he's a-lookin' for you, Tom-Jeff." "For me?" said Tom; then he laughed easily.
"I tell you what, Colonel," said he; "we have to have hands, of course. But somehow I wish this business of slavery had never been started!" "Sir," said the Colonel, with some force, "God made the sons of Ham the servants of Japheth's sons forever and forever." "Well, well, we won't quarrel about that, sir," said Brent, quickly.
"You allow it ain't fittin' for me to be out alone after night?" she said, with a hard little laugh. "I reckon it ain't goin' to hurt me none; anyways, I had to come. Paw's been red-eyed for a week, and he's huntin' for you, Tom-Jeff." Then Tom recalled Japheth's word of the morning. "Hunting for me?
But the building activities were clamoring for time and attention, and his father was waiting to consult him about a run of iron that was not quite up to the pipe-making test requirements. So he forgot Japheth's half-accusing glance at parting, and the implied warning that had preceded it, until an incident at the day's end reminded him of both.
"I tell you what, Colonel," said he; "we have to have hands, of course. But somehow I wish this business of slavery had never been started!" "Sir," said the Colonel, with some force, "God made the sons of Ham the servants of Japheth's sons forever and forever." "Well, well, we won't quarrel about that, sir," said Brent, quickly.
"I tell you what, Colonel," said he; "we have to have hands, of course. But somehow I wish this business of slavery had never been started!" "Sir," said the Colonel, with some force, "God made the sons of Ham the servants of Japheth's sons forever and forever." "Well, well, we won't quarrel about that, sir," said Brent, quickly.
Little things, atoms of suggestion, were separating themselves from the mass of things disregarded to cluster thickly on this nucleus of revealment: the old story of his companying with Nan on the mountain; his uncle's and Japheth's accusation at the time; and now the old moonshiner's enmity, Japheth's meaning look and distrustful silence, Nan's appearance with a child bearing his own name, the glances askance in Hargis's store when he was buying the little stock of necessaries for the poor outcast.
Japheth's answer was a good-natured laugh and a tacit refusal to take either. "You cayn't rile me thataway, boy," he said. "I've knowed you a heap too long. Git in the fu'ther rut and take your medicine like a man." Since there appeared to be no help for it, Tom set his horse in motion again, and Japheth gave him a mile of silence in which to cool down.
"Is Nan coming back to the dog-keeper's cabin when the family leaves the hotel?" "'Tain't goin' to make any difference to you if she does," said Pettigrass, wondering where he was to be hit next. "It may, if you'll do me a favor. You'll be where you can see and hear. I want to know who visits her besides Miss Ardea." Brother Japheth's smile was more severe than the sharpest reproach.
Caleb Gordon smiled in spite of the corroding industrial anxieties. "Japheth's going to surprise you some, I reckon, son; he's gone and got religion." Tom put down his knife and fork. "Why, the old sinner!" he laughed. "How did that happen?" "Oh, just about the way it always does," said Caleb slowly.
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