Chapter II
Jethro's body was cold, numb. It was as though the last spark of life had flickered out. Something had died within him. Never had he given much thought to his boy. The nature and nurture of Scobee had been left entirely in the able hands of Hung Long Tom. As long as Scobee was not interested in farm life, Jethro was not interested in him. He thought of the boy in an impersonal way, seldom as a son. He was not unkind to him. He was not unkind to anybody. He was never mean. He simply ignored Scobee and the boy was thankful for his father's attitude.
The grim, taciturn man appealed very little
to him. He was a type hard for the tiny brain
[22]
