The Washington herald., 1911-11-09
THE PRODIGAL JUDGE
BY VAUGHAN KESTER Copyright, the sMaHno
light. 1911. the BobbsMerin Company

cation has already begun under my su-
pervision,'' and the judge, remembering
the high use to which he had dedicated
one of Pegloe's trade labels, fairly glow
ed with philanthropic fervor.
Think of that" murmured Yancy
softly. He was deeply moved. So was
I Mr.. Cavendish, who was gifted with a
| wealth OF ready sympathy. He thrust
out hardened hand to the judge.
shake" he said. You're heap bet
ter than you look" A thin ripple Of
| laughter escaped Mahafry, but the Judge
accepted Chills and Fever's proffered
hand. He understood that here was
simple, genuine soul.
Price. isn't it important for US to
know why Mr.. Yancy thinks the boy has
been taken back to North Carolina?" said
MahaTy.
Just what kin is Hannibal to you,
Mr.. Yancy?" asked the judge resuming
his seat.
Strictly speaking. hesain't none. That
he come to live with me is all owing
to Mr.. Crenshaw. who's a good man
when left to himself, but he's got a wife.
so body may say he never is left to
himself" began Yancy; and then briefly
he told the story Of the woman and the
child much as he had told 1t to BIaden
at the Barony the day of Gen. Quintard's
funeral
The judge. his back to the light and
his face in shadow, rested his left elbow
on the desk, and with his chin sunk in
his palm, followed the Scratch Killers
narrative with the closest attention.
And Gen. Quintard never saw him
never manifested any interest in him."
the words came slowly from the judges
lips: he seemed to gulp down something
that rose in his throat. Poor little lad"
he muttered, and again Poor little lad"
Never once, sir. He told the slaves
to keep him out Of his sight. We-all
wondered, TO you know how niggers will
talk. We thought maybe he was some
kin to the Quintards, but we couldn't
figure out how. The old general never
had but one child and she had been
dead fo' years. The child couldn't have
been hers no-now." Yancy paused.
The judge drummed idly on the desk.
What implacable hate-what iron
pride!" he murmured, and swept his
hand across his eyes. Absorbed and aloof,
he was busy with his thoughts that
spanned the waste of years-years that
seemed to glide before him in review,
each bitter with its hideous memories OF
shame and defeat. Then from the smoke
Of these lost battles emerged the lonely
figure Of the child as he had seen him
that June night. His ponderous arm
stiffened where 1t rested on the desk, he
assumed its customary expression Of bat
tered dignity, while a smile at once visit
full and tender hovered about his lips.
"One other question" he said. Until
this man Murrell appeared you had no
trouble with Bladen? He was content
that you should keep the child-your
right to Hannibal was never challenged?'
Never, sir. All my troubles began
about that time"
t. -
the judge.
'Td admire fo' to meet him." said
Yancy, quietly. |
The judge grinned.
II place my professional services at |
your disposal" he said. Yours is a clear |
case Of felonious assault"
mo; 1t amt, sir-I look at 1t this-a-
ways; it's clear case of my giving him |
the damndest sort of body beatingT'
Sir" said the judge, ''Fn hold your |
hat while you are about it!'
Hicks had taken his time in responding |
to the judges summons, but now his step |
sounded in the hall and throwing open |
the door he entered the room. Whether |
consciously or not, he had acquired |
something of that surly, forbidding man
ner which was characteristic of his en-
ployer. A curt nod of the head was his |
only greeting.
Hicks signified by another movement of |
the head that he would not. This Is q
very dreadful business" began the Judge. !
'Ain't it?" agreed Hicks. What you /
got to say to me?' he added petulantly.
Have you started to drag the bayou?"
asked the Judge. Hicks nodded. That
was your idea?' suggested the judge.
mo: 1t want" objected Hicks quick
Iy. "But I said she had, been actin like
she was plumb distracted ever since
Charley Norton got shot"
"Howf' inquired the judge, archlng his