They had that right to govern themselves. As to the new lands
coming in, it is their right also to vote upon the question of slavery,
each new state for itself."
"The war has already begun on the border," said my father. "My friend
and partner, Colonel Meriwether of Albemarle, who is with the Army in
the West, says that white men are killing white men all across the lands
west of the Missouri."
"At least, Cowles," said Colonel Sheraton, pacing a short way apart, his
hands behind his back, "we can wait until after this election."
"But if the Government takes action?" suggested Orme.
Sheraton whirled quickly, "Then war! war!" he cried, "War till each
Virginian is dead on his doorstep, and each woman starved at her
fireside. John Cowles, you and I will fight--I _know_ that you will
fight."
"Yes," said my father, "I will fight."
"And with us!"
"No," said my father, sighing; "no, my friend, against you!" I saw my
mother look at him and sink back in her chair. I saw Orme also gaze at
him sharply, with a peculiar look upon his face.
But so, at least, this argument ended for the time. The two men, old
neighbors, took each other solemnly by the hand, and presently, after
talk of more pleasant sort on lesser matters, the servants brought our
carriage and we started back for Cowles' Farms.
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