Tom felt that he was being robbed.  Then he realized with a sense of shock that here was a fortune of over half a million in lands and slaves which he had managed and manipulated all these years, but which was not his.  It was true that under the terms of his stepmother’s will he would inherit it in the event of Betty’s death—­well, she looked like dying, a whole lot—­she was as strong as a mule, those soft rounded curves covered plenty of vigorous muscle; Tom hated the very sight of her.  A pink-faced chit bubbling over with life and useless energy, a perfect curse she was, with all sorts of extravagant tastes and he was powerless to check her, for, although he was still her guardian, there were certain provisions of the will—­he consulted the copy he kept locked up in his desk in the office—­that permitted her to do pretty much as she pleased with her income.  It was a hell of a will!  She could spend fifteen or twenty thousand dollars a year if she wanted to and he couldn’t prevent it.  It was an iniquitous document!

Well, the place could go straight off to the devil, he wouldn’t wear out his life economizing for her to waste—­he didn’t get a thank-you—­and he knew that nobody took off the land bigger crops than he did, while bale for bale his cotton outsold all other cotton raised in the county—­that was the kind of a manager he was.  He wagged his head in self-approval.  And what did he get out of it?  A lump sum each year with a further lump sum of twenty thousand dollars when she came of age—­soon now—­or married.  Tom’s eyes bulged from their sockets—­she’d be doing that next, to spite him!

Betty’s sphere of influence rapidly extended itself.  She soon began to have her doubts concerning the treatment accorded the slaves, and was not long in discovering that Hicks, the overseer, ran things with a heavy hand.  Matters reached a crisis one day when, happening to ride through the quarters, she found him disciplining a refractory black.  She turned sick at the sight.  Here was a slave actually being whipped by another slave while Hicks stood looking on with his hands in his pockets, and with a brutal satisfied air.  When he caught sight of the girl, he sang out

“That’ll do; he’s had enough, I reckon, to learn him!” He added sullenly to Betty, “Sorry you seen this, Miss!”

“How dare you order such a punishment without authority!” cried Betty furiously.

Hicks gave her a black scowl.

“I don’t need no authority to whip a shirker,” he said insolently, as he turned away.

“Stop!” commanded Betty, her eyes blazing.  She strove to keep her voice steady.  “You shall not remain at Belle Plain another hour.”

Hicks said nothing.  He knew it would take more than her saying so to get him off the place.  Betty turned her horse and galloped back to the house.  She felt that she was in no condition to see Tom just at that moment, and dismounting at the door ran up-stairs to her room.