And Jeff, still quivering from the boy's accusation, had gone back into the cave and met his father as the old man was coming from the little gallery of the broken column with Polly Mathers's coat.

What had happened there I did not like to consider; they both had uncontrolled tempers, and in the past there had been wrongs on both sides.

Probably Jeff's blow had been harder than he meant.
In the evening when Mattison and I brought the news of the murder, Rad must have known instantly who was the real culprit.

That was why he had kept silent; that was why he so vehemently insisted on Mose's innocence.
I had found the light at last--though the darkness had been almost better.
What must I do?
I asked myself.

Was it my duty to search out Jefferson and convict him of this crime?
No one could tell what provocation he may have had.