“You from down South, ain’t you, son?” “Yes,” I said. He turned in his chair, sliding one hand into his pocket as he rested his chin upon the other. “I don’t really have the words to say what just come into my head, son. You see, I was down there for a long time before I come up here, and when I did come up they was after me. What I mean is, I had to escape, I had to come a-running.” “I guess I did too, in a way,” I said. “You mean they were after you too?” “Not really, Brother Tarp, I just feel that way.”
