The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-10-30

He pondered his problem Yet he knew that it was answered, not by Ri Cranshawe's homely wisdom, but by the inscrutable purpose of the force which had impelled him into the fight. He could not withdraw from the task to which he had been set. Whither? was a question that he needed not to answer, so long as a straight piece of road lay ahead He thought sadly of his fathers disp1easure. And he thought of Katherine, whom, it ap- peared, the winter had not taught to forget him. He had not learned to for get Work could dull, it could not wholly stide, the longing for her. And yet he had not been unhappy He knew that he could not say no to that which was calling him into service.
 He walked home through the calm of sundown. At the corner where stands the Farmers bank he met Warren Blake and a companion. Warren stopped him to introduce the stranger, Haig, a lanky, cadaverous individual who was the author of a much criti- cised novel, ''The Brethren
 q heard you twisting Murchel1's tail this afternoon Haig draw1ed. If you don't mind, I'd like to congratulate you-on your nerve. Eve been wonder ing whether you are merely a brave man or a specimen of that splendid genus, the fool. Brother Blake inclines to the latter notion."
 'sYes, Warren wou1d," John smiled.
 f'I do,'' said Warren solemnly. q don't believe iN agitation. 1t hurts business-and the agitator.''
 '.In New Chelsea, MT. Haig, we daily offer thanks for prosperity, good weath- CT and the old party"
 Haig's ready grin broadened as he placed hand on Warren's shoulder. Here, MT. Dcnmeade, but for the grace of God, stand I. My people wanted to make me banker
 "A dollar. Mir. Ha1g,'' John put in. ~neld close enough to the eye will hide the rest of creation
 Haig chuckled. tsNow, that's good. That's very good. Wish I could have thought of it.''
 JAS we put it in New Chelsea, are you leaving soon, MT. Haig?' asked John
 '.Lord, mol I'm here for my health. Doctor told me I'd been working too hard or not hard enough, I forget which, and that I needed fresh air for my liver. So I traiied up here after the Hampdens, where, by the way, Brother Blake and I are dining this evening"
 "Yes, and we'd better start Warren suggested patiently.
 s.Ah, these fiery lovers! Come around and see me, MT. Dunmeade."
 John promised, and they parted.
 He reached home to &e soundly scold- ed by Miss Roberta for his tardiness at supper. After supper he strolled into the library. The judge was reading by the desk, the light from the lamp throwing his cold, heavy features into sharp relief. He looked up inhospita- bly, as John entered.
 Busy, judge?" John generally call ed him judge, feeling not without req son that his father took more pride in his office than in his paternity. Of late he had had especial reason for this belief.
 ''Not too busy if you have anything of importance to discuss. I suppose you expect me to pat you on the back because you've sent another man on the road to prison P
 .'I have felt that you weren't in full sympathy with ft.''
 "I am not'' The judge laid his book on the desk and sat stffiy erect. John was immediately enabled to sympa- thize with those unfortunateS who were arraigned before his father. ''Now that the case is ended, I may speak frankly. As judge I, of course, approve of the punishment of crime But I don't approve your going out of your way to attack your party and Senator Murchell, a fine, clean living gentleman, who has always showed the warmest friendship for your fam ny." Judge Dunmeade spoke with re- strained emphasis.
 "And has created pernicious ma ehine," John added fncautiously.
 (Which elected you to the office you now hold.''
 'Your memory isn't good, judge. The machine nominated me. The peo- pie of Benton county elected me, you may remember
 ssYou couldn't have been nominated without Murchell's Endorsement"
 4aThat, I'm sorry to say, is probably true" John said, wishing that he had not ventured into the room. 'tPm sor- fy you feel so about it. Good night, father"
 Judge Dunmeade resumed his book Now, the judicial temperament is not given to impulse But as John went slowly out of the room Judge Dun meade experienced novel sensation which in the brief moment allowed for reflection he was at loss to define. Later he decided that it was his gen. erous nature asserting itself to give his son another chance. He may have been mistaken.
 Be that as it may, before John had passed quite out of the room he was recalled by an unexpected .tWait"
 He returned. t'Yes, father?"
 s'I suppose said the judge gruhiy, ''your fathers interest can have no weight with you. It ought to be clear to you without suggestion from me that if you persist in attacking Senator :AG11rcheI vr,a, make my lifelong amhi-