"Will Pap let you go?"

Ham laughed again. "Pap can't stop me. Nobody can't ever stop me. You
can't hold a river back from the ocean. That's the difference between a
river an' a pond. It's the difference between followin' a star of
destiny an' just goin' on livin' the same as an animal in a God-forsaken
country like this."

"This ain't such a bad country, Ham," argued Paul weakly, with the timid
demurrer of one who sees only the difficulties. "There are some
mighty-good people here, an' out there in the big cities a feller's got
to fight mighty hard to get along, I guess."

"It's a good country to come from," was the swift and contemptuous
rejoinder, "and a damn' poor one to stay in. They've got raw material
here that's all right--like us--but you've got to take it away to finish
it up. As for the hard fight you talk about, Paul, that's what I'm
huntin' for. No man's ever lived that had it in him to be greater than
me."

Upon Paul, with his measureless faith in his brother and his passion for
dreams, the mad arrogance of the declaration was lost. The ecstasy with
which Ham spoke tinged the promise with a fire of conviction--so that
Paul wondered and believed.




CHAPTER III