Putnam patriot., 1912-05-31
THE TROPICAL. JUDGE
{ By VAUGHAN HESTER
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 Where are We going now, Bruce- Not the way they went" and Betty glanced out into the black void where the keel boat had merged into the gloom.
 No, no-but we can't get the raft back upstream against the current, so the best thing Is to land at the Bates plantation below here; then as soon as you are able we can return to Belle Plain," said Darlington.
 There was an interval broken only by the occasional sweep of the great steering oar as Cavendish coaxed the raft out toward the channel. The thought of Charley Norton's murder rested on Darlington like a pal Scarcely a week had elapsed since he quilted Thicket Point, and in that week the hand Of death had dealt with them fmpartially, and to what end? Then the miles be had traversed in his hopeless journey up-river trans lated themselves into a division of time as well as space. They were just as much further removed from the past with its blight of tragic ter TOT. He turned and glanced at Betty He saw that her eyes held their steady look of wistful pity that was for the dead man; yet in spite of this, and in spite of the bounds beyond which he would not let his imagination carry him, the future, enriched with sudden promise, unfolded itself. The deep sense of recovered hope stirred with in him. He knew caere must come a day when he would dare to speak of his love, and she would listen.
 It's best we should land at Bates place-we can get teams there," ho went on to explain. And, Betty, wherever We go we'll go together, dear. Cayendish doesn't look as If he had any very urgent business of his own, and I reckon the same Is true of Yaney, so I am going to keep them with us. There are some points to be cleared up when we reach Belle Plain some folks who'll have lot to ex- plain or else quit this part of the state! And I intend to see that you are not left alone until-until I have the right to take care of you for good and ail-that's what you want me to do one of these days, isn't 1t. dar- ling" and his eyes. glowing and in- finitely tender. dwelt on her upturned face.
 But Betty shrank from him in in- voluntary agitation.
 ssnh not pnw Rruca-nnf n0w-wa mustn't speak of that-its wrong its wieked-you mustn't mako me forget him!" she cried brokenfy, in protest
 Forgive me, Betty. I'll not speak of 1t again" he said
 Wait, Bruce, and some time-Oh, don't make me say it." she gasped. 'or l shall hate myself." for in his presence she was feeling the horror of her past experience grow strangely remote, only the dull ache of her memories remained, and to these she chung They were silent for mo- ment. then Darlington said:
 After I'm sure you'll be safe here perhaps I'll go south into the Choctaw Purchase. I've been thinking of that recently; but I'll find my way back here-don't misunderstood me-Ill not come too soon for even you, Bet ty. l loved Norton. He was one of my best friends, too," he continued gently But you know-and l know --dear, the day will come when no matter where you are l shall find you and not lose you!"
 Betty made no answer in words, but a soft and eloquent little hand was slipped into his and allowed to rest there.
 Presently a light wind stirred the dead dense atmosphere, the mist lift ed and enveloped the shore, showing them the river between piled-up mass of vapor. Apparently 1t ran for their raft alone. It was just twen- ty-four hours since Darlington had looked upon such another night, put this was a different world the gray fog was unmasking-a world of hopes, and dreams. and rich content. Then the thought of Norton-poor Norton who had had his world, too, of hopes and dreams and rich content
 The calm of a highly domestic ex- istence had resumed its interrupted sway OF the raft. MT. Cavendish, as- sociated in Betty's memory with cer- tain ear-splitting manifestations of ferocious rage, became in the bosom of his family low-voiced and genial and hopelessly impotent to deal with his five small sons; while Yancy was again the Bob Yancy of Scratch Hill, violence of any sort apparently had no place in his nature. He was deep ly absorbed in Hannibafs account of those vicissitudes which had befallen him during their separation. They were now seated before a cheerful nre that blazed on the hearth, the boy very close to Yancy, with one hand clasped in the Scratch Hiller's, while about them were ranged the six small Cavendishes sedately sharing in the reunion of uncle and neyyy, toward which they felt they had honorabiy labored.
 And you want dead, Uncle Bob?" said Hannibal with a deep breath, viewing Yancy unmistakably in the flesh.
 Never once. I been floating peace fully along with these here titled friends of mine; but l was some anx- ious about you, son."
 And Mr. Slosson, Uncle Bob-did you smack him like you smacked Dave Blount that day when he tried to steal me-" asked Hannibal, whose childish sense Of justice demanded reparation for the wrongs they had suffered.