J

CHAPTER VI

THE NEW BIRTH

OHN CRAIG had entered the gate, his heart filled with bitterness and hatred. He passed out with a strange feeling of joy. He felt himself a conqueror. Yet he had only met final defiance from the Judge.

As he walked slowly toward his office the contradiction of his feelings with the facts struck him as funny. He laughed in spite of himself, turned and walked back to the gate. He stood watching the lighted windows with a curious feeling of detachment from his habits of thought. He no longer remembered Hawkins as his enemy, the man who had stolen his inheritance. He could only think of him as the father of the radiant girl he had just met. He couldn't reconcile the two facts-the child-the father.

His mind refused to dwell on the ugly life of the father. He could only see the girl extending her hand to greet him. Her voice was music. The memory of the touch of her hand set the blood tingling to the tips of his fingers. He recalled that he had unconsciously held it as they parted at the door-held it until she looked down and smiled. And he had blushed like a schoolboy when he suddenly let it go.

Yet she hadn't resented it. She said good night with a smile. How beautifully she fitted into the hall! She had been born to live in such a home. The fine old furni

ture seemed to have been made for her. the moment that she was its mistress.

He was glad for

Her voice had strangely moved him. He knew why,

now that he had thought it over. There were low tones in it exactly like his mother's. His eyes slowly filled with tears. Bitterness melted from his heart and he felt the first throb deep within his being of a newborn manhoodthe new being, born of love. He had not realized it yet, though the conviction was slowly growing that the whole current of life had been changed by the events of the night.

He turned from the gate with a smile and walked rapidly to his office. Logan saw the change that had come over him and his grim face warmed with a smile. "You win!" he cried.

"Sure" was the prompt rely.

He hastened to correct the impression his answer had made.

"I win, Ben," he went on soberly. "But the victory was not over the Judge. It was bigger. It was over myself. I've seen a new light. I've decided that life's too short for hate. It's just long enough for love and helpfulness. I'll not waste any more of it—"

Logan heard his voice drift into silence and said as he scratched his shaggy head:

"I don't exactly know what you're talking about, Chief -but by the look in your eye, there'll be no raid tonight-"

Craig nodded.

"No. Not to-night."

Logan turned to the white-robed figures.

"Take off your things, boys, and go home.”

The men quickly obeyed. As they started to the door,

Craig lifted his hand.

"Just a minute-"

He spoke quietly as the men halted.

"To-morrow night I want the full Klan at Inwood early -mounted and armed."

The countryman frowned and looked at his Chief in wonder, hesitated a bare moment and then gave the order. "Ride to-night and call the Klan to Inwood at eight o'clock to-morrow."

The men answered with a military salute and filed out of the door. Craig pressed the hand of his faithful partisan, but gave no explanation of his order. He loved the test of faith. He watched him go with a feeling of pride and tenderness. Life was worth living with the faith of such men lighting the way. He made a new vow to be their loyal leader by the highest standards of truth and right. His lips met in a movement of stern resolution. It would be hard, sometimes-this new way in which he had set his feet, but he would not look back. The shadows slowly lifted and a tender smile crept into his eyes. He saw no longer his faithful followers, but the face of a laughing girl upturned toward his.

W

CHAPTER VII

A SLIGHT ERROR

ITHIN two hours after Craig's call on Hawkins the news had spread. It was the principal topic of conversation in the barber shops, the drug stores and hotel lobby. Speculation as to its meaning varied from opinions that he had surrendered by an apology to predictions that he had thrashed the Judge.

The one man to whom the news brought genuine distress was George Wilkes. That Craig had met Claudia was a certainty. The thought of it made him ill. Not that he really feared Craig as a rival but Claudia was headstrong. He had never been sure of her. He could rely on the Judge to show Craig the door. But if the girl wished to torture him by a flirtation with his rival she had the daring to do it in spite of any wish of her father. He was putty in her hands.

Wilkes made up his mind to put his standing to the test. He was getting tired of Claudia's coldness. It was all well enough, this maidenly reserve. But he had begun to get the impression that she was playing with him. It cut his vanity. It was an insult to his sense of social importance. A girl of her poverty had no right to treat the richest man in the county with such high manners.

The moment he could leave the court room he hurried to call on Claudia. The hour was unusual-twelve, noon -but the matter was urgent. He wouldn't wait. As he walked briskly up the graveled roadway to the house, he paused once with a premonition that he might be mak

ing a mistake to call on her unannounced at such an hour. His pause was brief. It was nonsense. Ceremony at such a time between two people engaged to be married! He had the right to call when he pleased.

He walked firmly up and rang the bell. It was answered by Maggie, Claudia's little coal-black maid. She walled her mischievous eyes at Wilkes in a most annoying way that upset him.

"Tell Miss Claudia I'd like to see her a few minutes," he announced.

Maggie lowered her eyes and watched him out of one corner as she slowly obeyed his command. Wilkes was not popular with servants. He had a quick brutal way of giving orders that rubbed a negro the wrong way.

Maggie made no answer. She merely climbed the stairs, watching the young lawyer slyly.

Two minutes later he walked over to a mirror and adjusted his tie. He was nervous. She was keeping him waiting longer than was necessary. At least she might send an answer at once. She was doing it to tease him, of course. He made up his mind to get even when they were married. Her social ambitions were the forces that would give him victory. It took money to make them worth while. He had the money. He smiled with the consciousness of power.

Of course, he had taken her mild pretension of love with a grain of salt. She was too young and beautiful to take herself or life seriously. His fortune had been the magnet that drew her. He was content. He would make her love him in due time.

Yet as the minutes lengthened he grew angry and uneasy. He made up his mind to assert his rights with dignity and yet with a firmness that would leave no question as to who was going to be master in his house.