The Hills of Refuge: A NovelHarben, Will N. (Will Nathaniel)
General
The Hills of Refuge: A Novel
Harben, Will N. (Will Nathaniel)
Fiction
"It is all right," Kenneth said, with an assuring smile. "Nobody is in
sight on the road for a mile either way. We can dodge back any minute at
the slightest sound. It's hell, Brown, to stay there like a pig being
fattened for the killing. This is monotonous, I tell you. I can't stand
it very long. That man must get to Atlanta. Mary is off this morning to
borrow cash for it. Our credit is gone. Nobody will indorse for the old
man but Albert Frazier, and I think his name is none too good here
lately."
"He will get the money for sister, see if he doesn't," Martin spoke up,
plaintively. "She is trying to keep him from it, though; that's why she
went off this morning. She doesn't care for him--she doesn't--she
doesn't! She knows what he is. She couldn't love a man like that. I hate
him. He claims to be helping us, and he is, I reckon, but he has an
object in view, and I'd die rather than have him gain it."
"No, I don't want her to marry him, either." Kenneth's voice had a touch
of genuine manliness in it which Charles noticed for the first time.
Moreover, his face was very grave. He shrugged his shoulders and flushed
slightly as he went on. "I've been watching you, Brown. Having nothing
else to do all day long, I've watched you at your work and seen you come
and go from the field to the house and back. I envy you. To tell you the
God's truth, I'm sick and tired of the way I've been living. They say I
am responsible for Martin being in this mess, too. I reckon I am, and I
know I am the cause of sister's worry and the disgrace of all this on
the family. They say an honest confession is good for the soul, and I
say to you that if this damned thing passes over I'm going to take a
different course. I see the pleasure you get out of working, and I am
going to work. The other thing is not what it is cracked up to be."
Kenneth's voice had grown husky, and he cleared his throat and coughed;
the light of shame still shone in his eyes.
"He means it," Martin said, throwing his arm about his brother and
leaning on him affectionately. "Last night when he found me awake he
came over to my corner and sat down and talked. He said he'd got so he
couldn't sleep sound, either. It was wonderful the way he talked, Mr.
Brown. I didn't know Ken was like that. He talked about mother and about
sister's brave fight against so many odds--and, may I tell him, Ken? You
know what I mean."
"I don't care what you say," Kenneth answered. He was seated on the
ground, his eyes resting on the gray roof of the house which could be
seen above the trees, outlined against the blue sky and drifting white
clouds. "I'm not ashamed of anything I said."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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