rry on
after me and my old lady was gone, so, when I began to tote about the
idea of you not being dead, I could think of nothing else, till--well,
till I come here and found your name in the directory. You were the only
John Trott in it, and was a contractor, and I knew I'd run you to your
hole."

"I'm glad you did, Sam," John answered. "I've always wanted to see you
again, but didn't know how to bring it about with absolute safety to my
plans. I'd cut out the whole thing down there, and it seemed best to
forget it--best for me and for Dora. She was so young when she was down
there that she has almost forgotten the worst features of
it--about--about her aunt and other things, I mean."

"I was going to inquire about her," Cavanaugh said. "Is she well and all
right?"

John explained briefly, and heard his old friend sighing. "And so you
are all alone now, not married--no one with you at all."

John nodded. "Oh, I'm all right. I'm 'neither sugar nor salt,'" he
quoted an old saying. "Don't worry about me, Sam. I'll get along some
way or other."

There was silence between the two for a few minutes. It was as if the
old man were wondering what further information he might be at liberty
to give pertaining to the past. Presently he cleared his throat and
said:

"Your ma is still alive, John. Jane Holder is dead. Lots and lots of
things that you don't know about have happened down home since you left.
As soon as Jane Holder died your ma quit living in that old house. She
pulled up stakes and drifted about some. She stayed awhile in Atlanta,
then in Nashville, and finally came back to our town and moved out in
the country. She was--was befriended--a nice woman and her husband sort
of--well, I suppose they sort of took pity on her, and--"

"Stop, Sam!" John's face was dark and twisted from inner agony. "Please
don't mention her. For Dora's sake I've been trying to think of her as
never having actually existed. I don't blame her, you understand. She is
living her life and I'm living mine. I don't blame people for their
natures or characteristics. Such things come at birth. My father was one
thing--she was another. But I've fought down my past, torn it out like
an unwholesome dream. I may be mistaken, Sam, but it seems to me that I
ought not to talk about all that now. I've fought to acquire a new life,
and to some extent I have won it. What lies before me I don't know, and
I don't greatly care. I'm still young in years an