“Where did you get that horse?” pa said.
“Bought it,” Jewel said. “From Mr. Quick.”
“Bought it?” pa said. “With what? Did you buy that thing on my word?”
“It was my money,” Jewel said. “I earned it. You won’t need to worry about it.”
“Jewel,” ma said; “Jewel.”
“It’s all right,” Cash said. “He earned the money. He cleaned up that forty acres of new ground Quick laid out last spring. He did it single-handed, working at night by lantern. I saw him. So I don’t reckon that horse cost anybody anything except Jewel. I don’t reckon we need worry.”
“Jewel,” ma said. “Jewel—” Then she said: “You come right to the house and go to bed.”
“Not yet,” Jewel said. “I ain’t got time. I got to get me a saddle and bridle. Mr. Quick says he—”
“Jewel,” ma said, looking at him. “I’ll give—I’ll give—give—” Then she began to cry. She cried hard, not hiding her face, standing there in her faded wrapper, looking at him and him on the horse, looking down at her, his face growing cold and a little sick looking until he looked away quick and Cash came and touched her.
“You go on to the house,” Cash said. “This here ground is too wet for you. You go on, now.” She put her hands to her face then and after a while she went on, stumbling a little on the plough-marks. But pretty soon she straightened up and went on. She didn’t look back. When she reached the ditch she stopped and called Vardaman. He was looking at the horse, kind of dancing up and down by it.