yellow light, and he was rushing through autumn fields again before he realized that the yellow light was the Kentucky River surging down from the hills.  Back up the stream surged his memories, making him faint with homesickness, for it was the last link that bound him to the mountains.  But both home and hills were behind him now, and he shook himself sharply and lost him-self again in the fields of grass and grain, the grazing stock and the fences, houses, and barns that reeled past his window.  Steve Hawn met him at the station with a rattle-trap buggy and, stared at him long and hard.

“I’d hardly knowed ye—­you’ve growed like a weed.”

“How’s the folks?” asked Jason.

“Stirrin’.”

Silently they rattled down the street, each side of which was lined with big wagons loaded with tobacco and covered with cotton cloth—­there seemed to be hundreds of them.

“Hell’s a-comin’ about that terbaccer up here,” said Steve.

“Hell’s a-comin’ in the mountains if that robber up here at the capital steals the next election for governor,” said Jason, and Steve looked up quickly and with some uneasiness.  He himself had heard vaguely that somebody, somewhere, and in some way, had robbed his own party of their rights and would go on robbing at the polls, but this new Jason seemed to know all about it, so Steve nodded wisely.

“Yes, my feller.”

Through town they drove, and when they started out into the country they met more wagons of tobacco coming in.

“How’s the folks in the mountains?”

“About the same as usual,” said the boy, “Grandpap’s poorly.  The war’s over just now—­folks ‘r’ busy makin’ money.  Uncle Arch’s still takin’ up options.  The railroad’s comin’ up the river”—­the lad’s face darkened—­“an’ land’s sellin’ fer three times as much as you sold me out fer.”

Steve’s face darkened too, but he was silent.

“Found out yit who killed yo’ daddy?”

Jason’s answer was short.

“If I had I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Must be purty good shot now?”

“I hain’t shot a pistol off fer four year,” said the lad again shortly, and Steve stared.

“Whut devilmint are you in up here now?” asked Jason calmly and with no apparent notice of the start Steve gave.

“Who’s been a-tellin’ you lies about me?” asked Steve with angry suspicion.

“I hain’t heerd a word,” said Jason coolly.  “I bet you burned that toll-gate the morning I left here.  Thar’s devilmint goin’ on everywhar, an’ if there’s any around you I know you can’t keep out o’ it.”

Steve laughed with relief.

“You can’t git away with devilmint here like you can in the mountains, an’ I’m ‘tendin’ to my own business.”

Jason made no comment and Steve went on: 

“I’ve paid fer this hoss an’ buggy an’ I got things hung up at home an’ a leetle money in the bank, an’ yo’ ma says she wouldn’t go back to the mountains fer nothin’.”