The judge was the picture of indifference.

“It will be quite informal, the code is scarcely applicable; I merely intend to remove him because he is not fit to live.”

“At sun-up!” muttered Mahaffy.

“I intend to start one day right even if I never live to begin another,” said the judge, a sudden fierce light flashing from his eyes.  “I feel that this is the turning point in my career, Solomon!” he went on.  “The beginning of great things!  But I shall take no chances with the future, I shall prepare for every possible contingency.  I am going to make you and Yancy my grandson’s guardians.  There’s a hundred thousand acres of land hereabout that must come to him.  I shall outline in writing the legal steps to be taken to substantiate his claims.  Also he will inherit largely from me at my death.”

Something very like laughter escaped from Mahaffy’s lips.

“There you go, Solomon, with your inopportune mirth!  What in God’s name have I if I haven’t hope?  Take that from me and what would I be?  Why, the very fate I have been fighting off with tooth and nail would overwhelm me.  I’d sink into unimportance —­my unparalleled misfortunes would degrade me to a level with the commonest!  No, sir, I’ve never been without hope, and though I’ve fallen I’ve always got up.  What Fentress has is based on money he stole from me.  By God, the days of his profit-taking are at an end!  I am going to strip him.  And even if I don’t live to enjoy what’s mine, my grandson shall!  He shall wear velvet and a lace collar and ride his pony yet, by God, as a gentleman’s grandson should!”

“It sounds well, Price, but where’s the money coming from to push a lawsuit?”

The judge waved this aside.

“The means will be found, Solomon.  Our horizon is lifting—­I can see it lift!  Don’t drag me back from the portal of hope!  We’ll drink the stuff that comes across the water; I’ll warm the cockles of your heart with imported brandy.  I carry twenty years’ hunger and thirst under my wes-coat and I’ll feed and drink like a gentleman yet!” The judge smacked his lips in an ecstasy of enjoyment, and dropping down before the table which served him as a desk, seized a pen.

“It’s good enough to think about, Price,” admitted Mahaffy grudgingly.

“It’s better to do; and if anything happens to me the papers I am going to leave will tell you how it’s to be done.  Man, there’s a million of money in sight, and we’ve got to get it and spend it and enjoy it!  None of your swinish thrift for me, but life on a big scale—­company, and feasting, and refined surroundings!”

“And you are going to meet Fentress in the morning?” asked Mahaffy.  “I suppose there’s no way of avoiding that?”

“Avoiding it?” almost shouted the judge.  “For what have I been living?  I shall meet him, let the consequences be what they may.  To-night when I have reduced certain facts to writing I shall join you at Belle Plain.  The strange and melancholy history of my life I shall place in your hands for safe keeping.  In the morning I can be driven back to Boggs’.”