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Dill
released
the
straws
and
grinned
.
"
Scout
,
it
’
s
nothing
but
Coca
-
Cola
.
"
Mr
.
Raymond
sat
up
against
the
tree
-
trunk
.
He
had
been
lying
on
the
grass
.
"
You
little
folks
won
’
t
tell
on
me
now
,
will
you
?
It
’
d
ruin
my
reputation
if
you
did
.
"
"
You
mean
all
you
drink
in
that
sack
’
s
Coca
-
Cola
?
Just
plain
Coca
-
Cola
?
"
"
Yes
ma
’
am
,
"
Mr
.
Raymond
nodded
.
I
liked
his
smell
:
it
was
of
leather
,
horses
,
cottonseed
.
He
wore
the
only
English
riding
boots
I
had
ever
seen
.
"
That
’
s
all
I
drink
,
most
of
the
time
.
"
"
Then
you
just
pretend
you
’
re
half
—
?
I
beg
your
pardon
,
sir
,
"
I
caught
myself
.
"
I
didn
’
t
mean
to
be
—
"
Mr
.
Raymond
chuckled
,
not
at
all
offended
,
and
I
tried
to
frame
a
discreet
question
:
"
Why
do
you
do
like
you
do
?
"
"
Wh
—
oh
yes
,
you
mean
why
do
I
pretend
?
Well
,
it
’
s
very
simple
,
"
he
said
.
"
Some
folks
don
’
t
—
like
the
way
I
live
.
Now
I
could
say
the
hell
with
‘
em
,
I
don
’
t
care
if
they
don
’
t
like
it
.
I
do
say
I
don
’
t
care
if
they
don
’
t
like
it
,
right
enough
—
but
I
don
’
t
say
the
hell
with
‘
em
,
see
?
"
Dill
and
I
said
,
"
No
sir
.
"
"
I
try
to
give
‘
em
a
reason
,
you
see
.
It
helps
folks
if
they
can
latch
onto
a
reason
.
When
I
come
to
town
,
which
is
seldom
,
if
I
weave
a
little
and
drink
out
of
this
sack
,
folks
can
say
Dolphus
Raymond
’
s
in
the
clutches
of
whiskey
—
that
’
s
why
he
won
’
t
change
his
ways
.
He
can
’
t
help
himself
,
that
’
s
why
he
lives
the
way
he
does
.
"
