paying client when he had opened his law office. But he wondered what he had meant by saying: "You have in me a better friend than you know!" The more the thought of it the more it puzzled him.

Outside the door of the courthouse Wilkes lingered in conversation with the Judge. It was characteristic of Hawkins to linger after the demonstration against him. He would see if any individual in the crowd would attempt a show of personal hostility. He knew most of the townspeople. Off the bench and outside of his low, political associates he was a man of genial temper and had the knack of winning personal friendships. Socially he was a good mixer. He enjoyed the reputation of being one of the best poker players in the county and he played a daring square game.

In politics only was he crooked. He was frank about it, too. His theory of Democracy was that the people were fools. And the shrewdest rascal was sure to succeed.

He still lingered in front of the courthouse to see if any of his townsmen would question the abuse of his power which he had just made.

While he talked to Wilkes in laughing banter, Craig and his friends passed through the door and suddenly confronted them.

Wilkes turned to go.

“I'll have the buggy ready in five minutes, Judge-ride down with me?"

Hawkins nodded.

Klein, the boy, with the dog still in his arms, and Henry followed Craig. The Judge ignored his enemy and glanced toward the sky as if to reckon the weather. Craig threw him a contemptuous look. Hawkins smiled grimly. There was no question of his courage.

The dog held a different view of Court etiquette. He

saw his enemy and with a fierce growl tried to break Sammy's hold and get the Judge. Hawkins heard the smothered growl, turned in fear and began to back.

Sammy clung to the squirming, snarling form with desperate strength.

"Hi-here-now-behave-be still-I tell you-quit

it-"

The Judge's eyes were shining with real terror as he continued to move away. He faced men with courage, but he had always been afraid of a dog. Craig laughed, put his hand on the dog's head and said gently:

"That'll do now, Sport. I'll attend to the Judge.” The dog wagged his tail, and stopped his struggle. He had the strange power of judging men's character often seen in animals. He knew a fool or a rascal by an unerring instinct. They were the only kind of men he ever tried to bite. And he knew the difference between the boy's pleading for peace and the touch of a master's hand on his head commanding it.

Craig turned to Henry and beckoned.

Henry grinned and hurried forward. Craig drew him aside.

"Saddle my horse, ride out to Ben Logan's and tell him I want to see him right away."

"Yassah-" Henry nodded.

The Judge was just turning the corner. Craig watched him with a look of cold hate.

T

CHAPTER II

CLAUDIA

HE one fine trait in the Judge's character was his love for a beautiful daughter. He had given

Claudia an unusual education for the times. The fact that her mother had died when she was a child had of course been an influence in keeping her in boarding school since she was twelve years old. But beyond this was the desire to make live in her the finer things of life which he had crushed out of his own soul.

He had spared nothing in her education. When money was needed for her college course in the North, he got it. He borrowed it sometimes. He begged it often. And sometimes he stole it. But always he got it.

If she were a little spoiled by his indulgence, she made up for it in charm and beauty. Hawkins was immoderately proud of her. Down in his crooked heart the ambition for place and power was rooted in his love for this accomplished girl. In every dream of triumph, he saw her by his side and heard the whispered comments of friend and foe. He had gotten the Craig mansion with its big white columns shining through cedars and magnolias because he saw her standing at its old-fashioned colonial door welcoming his guests.

And she had won the richest young man in the county before her school days were over. She was his mascot. Every shadow of life would be lifted now by her smile. It was this thought that had given him the insolent daring to openly favor Wilkes in court. Let mossback

lawyers rave. He didn't give a tinker's dam. To the devil with their traditions. The old world was passing. He had cast his lot with the new. The old pride and pomp and ceremony of the slaveholding South made him sick anyhow. His daughter would set the pace for a new world.

He thought of these things with a smile, recovered his dignity and hurried to join Wilkes for the ride to his house.

Claudia was leisurely putting the last touch to her toilet for the buggy ride with Wilkes. She scarcely thought of him as her fiancé. He had proposed in Washington the first week she had met him. She had laughingly accepted his offer of marriage as a tribute to her youth and charm. As for really marrying him-it was too early to speculate. There was time to change her mind many times. In fact she had not yet made up her mind. Life was too fresh and sweet for such worries. She had been penned up in school and college for ten years. Now she would live. And she would live to her finger tips.

She dressed with a care that took in any eventuality. She had been in town but a week. Wilkes was the only man she knew. No matter what his wealth and position, she would take stock of them all. And she meant to take stock of her own heart before leaping into a thing so final as marriage.

She smiled into the old-fashioned oval mirror. A perfect oval face to match the mirror's frame. Dark waving hair gleaming in the rays of the setting sun that poured through her window. Wide-open brown eyes laughing beneath their arched brows. A fine, loving, wholesome personality that made friends. And she had beauty in real endowment. A face no man could pass the first time

without turning. Many a time she had laughed at the unfailing test.

She laughed now at the thought of it as she turned to Aunt Laura, who stood holding her poke bonnet and gazing with rapture.

"How's that?" she asked.

The colored woman's fat figure shook with merriment. When her laughter subsided she gazed a moment and said:

"Des one look-an' you'll knock him dead, honey!"

The girl joined in her laugh, took the poke bonnet and adjusted its ribbon beneath the dainty chin.

Aunt Laura leaned closer.

"Lawd, chile, you ought ter been married at sixteen. Been wastin' time in dat college-"

"Nonsense, I'm only twenty-two. Just old enough to look around with a little common sense

"An' ye gwine ter look round, too—I bet ye!" the fat one ventured.

"I'll bet so, too," Claudia whispered as the sound of crunching buggy wheels echoed from the graveled drive in front of the porch.

The buggy stopped, Wilkes leaped out and the Judge followed. In a moment Claudia stepped between the two center columns and paused before coming down. Wilkes' hat was lifted and the Judge beamed his pride. He seized the young lawyer's arm and whispered: "Lord, boy, isn't that a picture?"

"Glorious—” the younger man agreed.

"You're a lucky scamp, sir-"

Wilkes straightened himself.

"I was born lucky, Judge—”

Claudia lightly walked down the low marble steps.