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want to talk about what it’s about.”
    “Not yet, I guess. Tell me, how many people live in Sutherland?”
    “Oh, round about four thousand now, I guess, what with the new hair curler factory that opened up this spring.”
    “Much industry?”
    “Much as Mr. Sutherland wants.”
    “He decides that sort of thing?”
    “He decides pretty much what he wants to. Mr. Sutherlandis responsible for the prosperity we’ve got here.”
    “You mean the lake, the tourists it brings?”
    Bo Scully chuckled. “Tourists are just about the last thing Mr. Sutherland wants. They’re noisy, dirty. There’s a public beach way down the other end by the fish camp, but that’s it. The power company owns the whole lakeshore and leases lots to those folks Mr. Sutherland feels are all right.”
    “Then what’s the source of the prosperity?”
    “The dam. That was built with Sutherland family money, and it’s owned by Sutherland Power. They wholesale the electricity to the Georgia Power Company, which brings in a bunch of money, you can bet your ass.”
    “I can see how it would,” Howell replied.
    “The nice part for the town is that Sutherland Power sells electricity dirt cheap, locally. With what’s happened to fuel prices since the Arabs got mean, you can imagine what a magnet that would be for industry to come in here.”
    “That must be why the supermarket sells so many electric heaters.”
    “You bet. There’s not a gas stove or furnace in the town. Most folks have got electric heat pumps and furnaces, and those who don’t use electric room heaters. It wouldn’t even pay to chop your own wood around here, unless you’re just a romantic who likes to gaze into a fire.”
    “Speaking of chopping wood, you know anybody I could get to stock up the cabin?”
    “Sure, ol’ Benny across at the gas station’ll do it. He’s got a chain saw, picks up a few bucks cutting wood for the summer folks. Up here, it can get pretty chilly at night, even in July.”
    “Great. So what industries do you have locally?”
    “Well, like I said, there’s the new hair curler factory, and there’s a brassiere factory, and we’ve got a big plant that manufactures plywood, too.”
    “That’s it? With the cheap power, I’d have thought you’d be crawling with industry.”
    “Like I said, Mr. Sutherland makes those decisions. He only lets new business in when he’s ready to develop a new section of town, and he’s pretty choosy about what he lets in. Last year one of the girlie magazines wanted to open up a big printing plant down here, but Mr. Sutherland wouldn’t have it. He’s got a puritan streak, he has, although he’ll take a drink. Throws a big party out at his place every fall and serves booze. We’re a wet town, too; a man can get a drink—not a mixed drink, mind you, but a bottle.”
    Thank God for small mercies, Howell thought. “How long has the lake been here?” he asked.
    “They started the dam after World War Two, as soon as they could get materials again. Filled it up in ’52.”
    “Looks older than that.”
    “It does, doesn’t it? But we’ve got clear mountain water feeding it, you know, not your muddy Chattahoochee. I think the mountains help, too. It was a deep little valley before the lake.”
    “What was in the valley before?”
    “Just farms, a few houses, a country school, a church. The town of Sutherland hardly existed. It’s mostly been built since, because of the lake. The lake has been a grand thing for us. We’re grateful to it every day, I can tell you.”
    “Did Sutherland have any problems putting the land together when he built the dam?” Scully’s reaction made Howell think he had hit a nerve.
    Scully looked down into his coffee and took a deepbreath. “Oh, there’s always a few malcontents in a case like that, I guess. Folks were well compensated for their land, though. Got better’n market value.” He looked up at Howell. “Don’t let anybody tell you different.”
    Howell