The man’s face took on the snarl of a vicious dog.

“No, by God!—­I hain’t.  The trouble’s on me right now.  Colonel Pendleton hain’t treated me right—­he cheated me out—­”

Steve got no further; the boy turned squarely in the buggy and his eyes blazed.

“That’s a lie.  I don’t know anything about it, but I know it’s a lie.”

Steve, too, turned furious, but he had gone too far, and had counted too much on kinship, so he controlled himself, and with vicious cunning whipped about.

“Well,” he said in an injured tone, “I mought be mistaken.  We’ll see—­we’ll see.”

Jason had not asked about his mother, and he did not ask now, for Steve’s manner worried him and made him apprehensive.  He answered the man’s questions about the mountains shortly, and with diabolical keenness Steve began to probe old wounds.

“I reckon,” he said sympathetically, “you hain’t found no way yit o’ gittin’ yo’ land back?”

“No.”

“Ner who shot yo’ pap?”

“No.”

“Well, I hear as how Colonel Pendleton owns a lot in that company that’s diggin’ out yo’ coal.  Mebbe you might git it back from him.”

Jason made no answer, for his heart was sinking with every thought of his mother and the further trouble Steve seemed bound to make.  Martha Hawn was standing in her porch with one hand above her eyes when they drove into the mouth of the lane.  She came down to the gate, and Jason put his arms around her and kissed her; and when he saw the tears start in her eyes he kissed her again while Steve stared, surprised and uncomprehending.  Again that afternoon Jason wandered aimlessly into the blue-grass fields, and again his feet led him to the knoll whence he could see the twin houses of the Pendletons bathed in the yellow sunlight, and their own proud atmosphere of untroubled calm.  And again, even, he saw Marjorie galloping across the fields, and while he knew the distressful anxiety in one of the households, he little guessed the incipient storm that imperious young woman was at that moment carrying within her own breast from the other.  For Marjorie missed Gray; she was lonely and she was bored; she had heard that Jason had been home several days; she was irritated that he had not been to see her, nor had sent her any message, and just now what she was going to do, she did not exactly know or care.  Half an hour later he saw her again, coming back at a gallop along the turnpike, and seeing him, she pulled in and waved her whip.  Jason took off his hat, waved it in answer, and kept on, whereat imperious Marjorie wheeled her horse through a gate into the next field and thundered across it and up the slope toward him.  Jason stood hat in hand—­ embarrassed, irresolute, pale.  When she pulled in, he walked forward to take her outstretched gloved hand, and when he looked up into her spirited face and challenging eyes, a great calm came suddenly over him, and from it emerged his own dominant spirit which the girl instantly felt.  She had meant to tease, badger, upbraid, domineer over him, but the volley of reproachful questions that were on her petulant red lips dwindled lamely to one: