In a small Southern town, people never let you forget who your folks were. Danny's father had been hanged for murder. His twenty-three years of life had been spent under the cloud of this heritage. But Jerry taunted Danny once too often, and when the savage fight was over, Jerry lay dead, with his face down in the swamp. This is merely the beginning of the tale; the real story is what happened afterwards to a lonely and frightened lad, discovering the solitary horror of going on killing a dead man over and over in his own mind, fearing suspicion and capture, but fearing still more his own self-discovery, wondering if he really was a killer, unable to confide in the girl who loved him and yet troubled by her strangeness when they were together. The reader quickly becomes Danny's partisan, not wishing him to escape, or even to avoid detection, but hoping that somehow in the midst of his bewilderment he will find himself.
In a small Southern town, people never let you forget who your folks were. Danny's father had been hanged for murder. His twenty-three years of life had been spent under the cloud of this heritage. But Jerry taunted Danny once too often, and when the savage fight was over, Jerry lay dead, with his face down in the swamp. This is merely the beginning of the tale; the real story is what happened afterwards to a lonely and frightened lad, discovering the solitary horror of going on killing a dead man over and over in his own mind, fearing suspicion and capture, but fearing still more his own self-discovery, wondering if he really was a killer, unable to confide in the girl who loved him and yet troubled by her strangeness when they were together. The reader quickly becomes Danny's partisan, not wishing him to escape, or even to avoid detection, but hoping that somehow in the midst of his bewilderment he will find himself.