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Ht Launched Himself Nimbly and With Enthusiasm Into the Fight. Tne light mcreasea. rrom uie imt stone hearth of the raft ascended a tall column of flame which rendered risible six pigmy figures, tow-headed and wonderfully vocal, who were toll ing like mad at the huge sweeps. The light showed more than this. It showed a lady of plump and pleasing presence smoking a cob-pipe while she fed the lire from a tick stuffed with straw. It showed two bark shanties, a line between them decorated with the never-ending Cavendish wash. It showed a rooster perched on the ridge-pole of one of these shanties In the very act of crowing lustily. Hannibal, who had climbed to the roof of the cabin, shrieked for help, and Betty added her voice to his. "All right, Nevvy!" came the cheer ful reply, as Taney threw himself over the side of the boat and grap pled with Sloason. "Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob I" cried Hannibal. Blosson uttered a cry of terror. He had a simple but sincere faith In the supernatural, and even with the Scratch Hiller's big hands gripping his throat, he could not rid himself of the belief that this was the ghost of a murdered man. Ton’ll take a dog's licking from me, neighbor," said Yancy grimly. "1 been saving It fo’ you!" Meanwhile Mr. Cavendish, whose proud spirit never greatly Inclined him to the practice of peace, bad pre pared for battle. Springing aloft he knocked bis heels together. "Whoop! I'm a man as can slide down a thorny locust and never get scratched!" he shouted. This was equivalent to setting his triggers; then he launched himself nimbly and with enthusiasm Into the thick of the fight. It was Mr. Bunker’s unfortu nate privilege to sustain the onslaught of the Earl of Lambeth. The light from the Cavendish hearth continued to brighten the scene, for Polly was recklessly sac rificing her best straw tick. Indeed her behavior was In every way worthy of the noble alliance she had formed. Her cob-pipe was not suffered to go out and with Connie's help she kept the six small Cavendishes from risk ing life and limh In the keel boat, to ward which they were powerfully drawn. Despite these activities she found time to call to Betty and Han nibal on the cabin roor. "Jump down here; that ain’t no flt tln* place for you-all to stop In with them gentlemen flgbtln’!" An Instant later Betty and Hanni bal stood on the raft with the little Cavendishes flocking about them. Mr. Taney's quest of bis nevvy had taken an enduring hold on their Imagina tion. For weeks It had constituted their one vital topic, and the tight be came merely a satisfying background for this Interesting restoration. "Sho\ they’d got him! Sbo’—he wa’n’t no bigger than Richard! Sbo’!’’ “Oh!" cried Betty, with a fearful glance toward the keel boat. "Can’t you stop them?” “What fo’T" asked Polly, opening her black eyes very wide. “Bless yo’ tender heart! —you don’t need to wor ry none, we got them strange gentle men licked like they was a passel of children! Connie, you-all mind that Mrml- THE PRODIGAL JUDGE By Vaughan Kester By D.Metv/U /ft*, ItfAwj Woo/i Co*r/»~r She accurately judged the outcome of the fight. The boat was little bet ter than a shambles with the havoo that had been wrought there when Yancy and Carrington dropped over Its side to the raft. Cavendish fol lowed them, whooping his triumph as he came. CHAPTER XXIX. The Raft Again. Yancy and Cavendish threw them selves on the sweeps and worked the raft clear of the keel boat, then the turbulent current seised the smaller craft and whirled It away into the night; as Its black bulk receded rrom before his eyes the Earl of Lambeth spoke with the voice of authority and experience. "It was a good fight and them fel lows done well, but not near well enough." A conclusion that could not be gainsaid. He added, "No cu ali’t hurt but them that had ought to have got hurt. Mr. Yancy’s all right and bo’s Mr. Carrington—who’ n.!glity welcome here.” The earlV shock of red hair was bristling Ilk* the mane of some angry animal anu his eyes still Hashed with the light of tattle, but he managed to summon up an expression of winning friendliness. "Mr. Carrington’s kin to me, Pol ly," explained Yancy to Mrs. Caven dish. His voice was far from steady, for Hannibal had been gathered Into his arms and had all but wrecked the stole calm with which the Scratch Hiller was seeking to guard his emo tions. Polly smiled and dimpled at the Kentuckian. Trained to a romantic point of view she had a frank liking for handsome, stalwart men. Caven dish was neither, but none knew bet ter than Polly that whera he was most lacking In appearance he was richest In substance. He carried scars hon orably earned In those differences he had been prone to cultivate with less generous natures; for his scheme of llf did not embrace the millennium. "Thank God. you got here when you did!" said Carrington. "We was some pushed fo’ time, but we done It," responded the earl mod estly. He uiitlod, "What now 7—do we make a landing?" "No —unless It Interferes with your plans not to. I want to get around the next behd before we tie up. Later we’ll all go back. Can I count on you?" Tou shorely can. I consider this here as sociable a neighborhood as I ever struck. It pleases me well. Folks are up and doing hereabout." Carrington looked eagerly around in search of Betty. She was sitting on an upturned tub, a pathetic enough figure as she drooped against the wall of one of the shanties with all her courage quite gone from her. He made bis way quickly to her side. "La!" whispered Polly In Chills and Fever’s ear. "If that pore young thing yonder keeps a widow it won’t be be cause of any encouragement she gets from Mr. Carrington. If I ever seen marriage In a man’s eye 1 seen It in his this minute!" "Bruce!" cried Betty, starting up as Carrington approached. "Oh, Bruce, I am so glad you have come—you are not hurt?" She accepted his presence without question. She hud needed him and he had not failed her. "We are none of us hurt, Betty," he said gently, as he took her hand. He saw that the suffering she had undergone durlug the preceding twenty-four hours had left Its record on her tired face and In her heavy eyes. She retained a shuddering con sciousness of the unchecked savagery of those last moments on the keel boat; she was still hearing the oaths of the men as they struggled together, the sound of blows, and the dreadful silences that had followed them. She turned from him, and there came the relief of tears. "There, Betty, the danger Is over now and you were so brave while It lasted. I can’t bear to have you cry!" "I was wild with rear—all that time on the boat, Bruce —’’ she faltered be tween her sobs. "I didn’t know but they would find you out. I could only wait and hope—and pray!" . "I was In no danger, dear. Didn't the girl tell you I was to take the place of a man Slosson was expect ing? He never doubted that 1 was that man until a light—a signal It 4 I Waa Quite Peevish After He Threw Me In the River. must nave been — on tne Buore at uie head of the bayou betrayed me." "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 up-stream 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 Carrington. 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 Carrington like a pall. Scarcely a week had elapsed since he quitted Thicket Point, and In that week the hand of death had dealt with them Impartially, and to what end? Then the miles he 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 or tragic ter ror. 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 reeovqyed hope stirred with In him. He knew there 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." h went on to explain. "And, Betty, wherever we go we’ll go together, dear. Cavendish doesn’t look as If he had any very urgent business of his own, and 1 reckon the same Is true of Yancy, 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 a lot to ex plain or else quit this part or 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 all—that’s what you want me to do one of these days. Isn’t It, dar ling?” and his eyes, glowing and In finitely tender, dwelt on her upturned face. But Betty shrank from him In In voluntary agitation. “Oh, not now, Bruce —not now—we mustn’t speak of that —It’s wrong— It’s wicked—you mustn't make me forget him!" she cried brokenly. In protest. "Forgive me, Betty, ITI not speak of It again," he said. “Wait, Bruce, and some time —Oh. don’t make me say It,” she gasped, "or I 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 clung. They were silent for a mo ment. then Carrington 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 bere—don’t misunderstand me—l’ll not come too soon for even you, Bet ty. I loved Norton. He was one or my best friends, too," he continued gently. "But you know —and 1 know ■—dear, the day will come when no matter where you are I shall find you and not lose you!” Betty made no answer In wordß. 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 It ran for their raft alone. It was just twen ty-four hours since Carrington had looked upon such another night, but 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 bad resumed Its interrupted I sway on the rart. Mr. cavenaisn, aa -1 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 Hannibal’s account of those vicissitudes which had befallen him during their separation. They were now seated before a cheerful fire 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 nevvy, toward which they felt they had honorably labored. "And you wa’n’t 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 I 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. Mr. Yancy extended a big right hand, the knuckle of which was skinned and bruised. "He were the meanest man I ever felt obliged fo’ to hit with my fist, Nevvy; It appeared like he had teeth all over his face." "Sho' —where’s &ls hide. Uncle Bob?" cried the little Cavendishes In an excited chorus. "Sho’ —did you for get that?" They themselves had for gotten the unlqu* enterprise to which Mr. Yancy was committed, but tne allusion to Slosson had revived their memory of IL "Well, he bsgpsfl so piteous to be allowed fo' to keep his hide, I hadn’t the heart to strip It off," explained Mr. Yuncy pleasantly. "And the winter's cumin’ on—at this moment I can feel a chill In the air—don’t you-all reckon he’s going* to need It fo’ to keep the cold out? Sho*, yon mustn’t be bloody minded!" "What was It about Mr. Slosson's hide. Uncle Bohr* demanded Hannl- Lal. "What waa you a-goln’ to do to that?" “Why. Nevvy, after he beat me ur .nd throwed me in the river, 1 w«. iome peevish fO* a spell In my fee "C® fo’ him," said Yancy In a tone >r gentle regret. He glanced at his ..ruined hand. “But I’m right pleased (o be able to say that I’ve got over all them onehaittable thoughts oi mine." “And you seen the judge. Uncle Ob?" questioned Hannibal. "Yes, I’ve seen the judge. We was tjgether fo* part of a day. Me and im gets on flaeT“ ’ Where is he bow. Uncle Bob?" "I reckon beck et Belle Plain 7 this time You see we left him in tuleigh along after noon to ’tend tc r.;e business he had on hand ! ever seen e gentleman of his welgm •> truly spry oo hls legs—and at: icut you, Newy; while as to mind! .j’ -why, words flowed out of him naturally as water out of e branch." Of Hannibal** relationship to the ;dge be said nothing. He felt tha: • a a secret to be revealed by th. udge himself when he should see hi "Uncle Bob, who'm I going to live vita now?” questioned Hannibal an> jusly. ’That pint’s already come uj Nevvy—him and me’s decided tin. here won’t be bo friction. You-u; will just go on living wltb him. "But wha about you. Uncle Bob? ried Hannibal, lifting a wistful litt: ice to Yancy^a "Ob, me?—weU, yon-all will g. right on living with me." "And what will come of Mr. Ma baffyr’ "I reckon yoo-all will go right or living wltb him, too." "Uncle Bob, you mean you reckon we all are going to live In one house?” "I Mow It will have to be fixed that a-ways," agreed Yancy. CHAPTER XXX. The Judge Reoelvee a Letter. After he had parted with Solomon Mahaffy the Judge applied hlmseir diligently to shaping that miracle working document which he was pre paring as an offset to whatever risk he ran in meeting Fentress. As sun euine as he was sanguinary he contl- | dently expected to survive tfie en counter, yet it was well to provide for a possible emergency—bad be not bis grandson’s future to consider? While thus occupied he saw the afternoon stage arrive and depart from berore the City Tavern. Half an hour later Mr. Wesley, the post master, came aaunteting up the street. In hls hand he carried a let ter. "Howdy,” he drawled, from Just be yond the judge’s open door. The judge glanced up, bis quill pen poised aloft "Good evening, sir; won’t you step Inside and be seated?" he asked gra ciously. Hls dealings wltb the United States mail service were of the most 1 insignificant description, and in per -1 sonally delivering a letter, if this was L what had brought him there, he felt 1 Mr. Wesley bad reached the limit of official courtesy and despatch. "Well, sir; It looks like you’d never told us more than two-thirds of the truth!" said the postmaster. He sur veyed the judge curiously. "I am complimented by your opln ' lon of my veracity," responded that gentleman promptly. "1 consider two thirds an enormously high per cent. ' to have achieved." "There is something In that, too," ' agreed Mr. Wesley. "Who Is Colonel Slocum Price Turberville?" The judge started up from hls chair. "I have that honor," said he, bow | ing. "Well, here’s a letter come in ad dressed like that, and as you’ve been using part of the name 1 am willing to assume you’re legally entitled to the rest of it. It clears up a point that off and on has troubled me con siderable. I can only wonder I wa’n’t smarter." "What point, may I ask?" “Why, about the time you hung out your shingle here, some one wrote a letter to General Jackson. It was mailed after night, and when I seen It In the morning I waa clean beat. 1 couldn’t locate the handwriting, and yet I kept that letter baok a couple of days and give It all my spare time. It ain’t that I’m one of your spying sort —there’s nothing of ths Yankee about me!” “Certainly not," agreed the judge. "Candid, Judge. I reckon you wrote that letter, seeing this one comes un der a frank from Washington. No, sir —I couldn’t make out who was cor responding with the president, and it worried me, not knowing, more than anything I’ve had to contend against since I came Into office. 1 calculate there ain’t a postmaster In the United states takes a mors persons! Interest in the service than me. I’vs frequent ly set patrons right when they was In doubt as to ths date they had mailed such and such a letter." As Mr. Wesley sometimes canceled as many as thro# or four stamps In a single day ho might have been par doned his pride In a brain which thus lightly dealt with tbo burden of offi cial business. Ho surrendered ths letter with marked reluctance. "Your surmise la correct," said the Judge with dignity. T had occasion to write my friend. General Jackson, and unless I am greatly mistaken I have my answer here." And with s tine air of lndlfferenoe he tossed the letter on the table. "And do yon know Old Hickory?" cried Mr. Wesley. ’Why not? Does it surprise you?" inquired the judge. It was only hls i’.nate courtesy which restrained him irom kicking the postmaster into the street, so Intense wae hls desire to be rid of him. "No» I don’t know se it does, judge. Naturally a public man like him la In the way of meeting with all sorts. A politician can’t afford to be too blame particular. Well, next time you write you might Just send him my regards— G. W. M. de L. Wesley’s regards— there waa considerable contention over my getting this office; 1 reckon he ain’t forgoL There was speeches made. I understand the Ue was passed between two United States senators, and that a quid of tobacco was throwed In anger." Having thus clear ly established the fact that he was a more or less national character, Mr. Wesley took himself off. When he had disappeared from sight down the street, the Judge closed the door. Then he picked up the let ter. For a long minute he held It in his hand, uncertain, fearful, while hls mind slipped back Into tbe past until hls inward searching vision ferreted out a handsome soldierly figure—hls own. “That’s what Jackson remembers if be remembers anything!" he mut tered. as with trembling fingers fie broke the seal. Almost instantly a smile overspread hls battered fea tures. He bitched hls chin higher and squared hls ponderous shoulders. "1 am not forgotten—no, damn it —no!" he exulted under hls breath. "Recalls me with sincere esteem and consid ers my services to the country as well worthy of recognition—’’ the Judge breathed deep. What would Mahaffy And to say now! Certainly this waa well calculated to disturb tbe sour j cynicism of bis friend. Hls bleared | eves brimmed. After all bis aronlna he had touched hands with the reall *l last! Even a federal judgeship, though not an office of first repute In the south, had Its dignity—lt signified something! He would make Solomon hls clerk! The Judge reached for hls hat. Mahaffy must knotg at once that fortune bad mended for them. Why, at that moment he was actually in receipt of an Income! tConflniied next week) Really Lucky Candidate. It Is a lucky car.li-Nte who is more talked about tLua lai.Lii z